#remove my water mark i remove your liver

[brown-bearrr]

alien oc!!!! she says "zeeb borz geelgle moob!!" to everyone!

[mariacallous]

When was the last time you made chicken soup without adding in a bunch of dill? If you are making an Eastern European version of it, don’t even think about it. Chicken soup without dill is like chopped liver without onions, tahini without lemon or marriage without love. It is an essential supporting ingredient, one that enriches all parts of the whole.

Dill never takes center stage; it is a modest herb, which is part of what I love about it. But only part. Would my mother be offended to know that it reminds me of her? There is that along with so many other reasons, which is why you can always find it in my fridge, at the ready, in a glass of water, waiting to be plucked.  

Here are the many reasons why I love dill, and why it deserves your love, too.

1. Dill is beautiful.

Not to be superficial, but let’s just get that out of the way. Dill is feathery; I love its muted green color and the languorous way it spills over the glass while it waits to be called into culinary duty. If you grow it in your garden, watch out for the yellow, lacy flowers that appear when the plant matures — they’re lovely enough to add to your flower arrangements and edible, too. 

2. Dill is Jewish.

According to Gil Marks, author of “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” dill was cultivated in Judea, a part of the land of Israel, more than 2,000 years ago. And in modern times, dill is an essential ingredient in many classic Eastern European Jewish and Persian Jewish dishes as well. Really, what is more Jewish than dill pickles? 

3. Dill reminds me of my mother (and maybe your mother, too?)  

Aside from the occasional bunch of parsley, dill was the only herb she ever bought in close to 70 years of cooking. No fresh mint, basil, rosemary, or tarragon. When dill was in the fridge, I knew it meant chicken or split pea soup was in my future. And like dill, my mother was beautiful, modest and Jewish.

4. Dill is old school.

Dill was one of the few herbs used in Eastern European Jewish cooking. In “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook,” written in 1937 by Fania Lewando, dill’s the herb that shows up most frequently. Lewando used it on potatoes, in cauliflower soup and in cucumber salad. If I can sneak it into a dish — particularly traditional Jewish dishes like potato kugel — I do; it gives me Poland, my grandmother and my mom in one handful.

5. But dill can be new school, too.

You haven’t lived if you haven’t treated yourself to dill pickle popcorn. This low calorie snack combines the flavor of pickles with popcorn and the results are triumphant. Find it at Trader Joe’s during the summer or Amazon year round. (You can also find dill pickle potato chips and array of other pickle-flavored snacks on the shelves of supermarkets these days!)

6. Dill helps to settle your stomach.

The herb’s name comes from the Norse word, “dilla,” which means to soothe. Since ancient times, dill has been used to calm roiling stomachs and even to help nursing mothers with breastfeeding. There was even mention of its medicinal properties in an Egyptian papyrus from 3,000 years ago.

7. Dill stays fresh a very long time.

Fresh dill usually lasts about two weeks in my refrigerator. When I bring home basil, the pressure is on. Use it or lose it. But dill waits for me. I snip the bottom, remove the rubber band holding the bunch together and stand it up in a glass of water. Others swear by wrapping dill in wet paper towels, placing it in a bag and putting it in a vegetable bin. One summer, when my garden exploded with a forest of dill, I cut bunches and froze them in ziplock bags to be used in the heart of winter when my soups called out for the grassy, vegetal flavor. 

8. Dill will clarify your chicken soup.

According to food writer Adeena Sussman, when cooking chicken soup, adding a bunch of dill attracts small particles floating in the liquid. Gently remove the dill for a clear broth once it’s done cooking.

9. Dill is healthy.

Dill is more than a pretty face. It’s a good source of Vitamin C, manganese and Vitamin A, and is rich in antioxidants, too. Could dill be part of why chicken soup is considered to be good for you? I put nothing past it.

10. Dill is my very own sleeper hit.

For many years, dill was my secret. There was nothing trendy or cool about it. But something changed of late. Food writer Alison Roman wrote a recipe that featured dill in potato-leek soup. It went viral, so much so that when I tried to buy a bunch of dill the week the recipe came out, there was none in the stores. The word was out. Dill is GOOD, and  I will remain forever loyal to its charms

[seacharms]

Fighting back against the bully

Could you make, Namjoon ff when your daughter is bullied a lot at school but one day she punches the girl who bullied her really hard and her nose starts bleeding, that's why you both were asked to meet the principal otherwise your daughter will be suspended but then your daughter tells you both and the principle about the bullying and Joon starts scolding the principle? etc. (PLSSSS DO THIS ONE>>>>>IVE BEEN UR FAN FOREVER!! … I PURPLE U❤🤞)

~Sure :)~

Recently you both noticed your daughter coming home from school late, she said that she had been studying with her friends in the library but you knew that it wasn't true. One day he walked into her room while she was doing her 'make up' (basically she was covering the harm marks on her face). "Honey come for dinner!" Namjoon said happily as he bust open her room door. "DAD GET OUT! THIS IS THE 4TH TIME THAT YOU'VE CALLED ME!! I KNOW THAT I HAVE TO COME FOR DINNER!!!!!" she screamed at him, making him flinch. He thought that she just needed some space, he left her room disappointed. The next day......

~Time skip~

(Y/D/N's POV)

"Hey, loser! did you really think running to the classroom where our teacher was sitting would save you?! You are so wrong *evil laugh*" said the bully, she dragged me to the bathroom and punched me really hard on my stomach and chest then she tied my hands with something then she took a water bucket and she poured it all on me, and made me drink something forcefully, she then slapped me and continuously started jabbing my back. I HAD ENOUGH!! I punched her on her nose and slammed her on the wash basin which made her entire face bleed, then I took some water and splashed it on her face the same way she did to me. Suddenly a teacher entered the bathroom and saw that stupid girl's face bleeding and both of us were soaked. The next thing you know is that we both were in the head office and my parents were called, she just kept ranting about me to the principal and making it look like it was all MY fault. I felt like I should've stabbed her with a knife. The principal sent her home, but I WAS STILL STUCK IN THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!! My parents reached school and my dad looked ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS, I got really scared cuz, I have never in my life seen him THIS ANGRY!

(Y/D/N POV ends)

Namjoon was furious! you tried to calm him down so that he doesn't lose his temper in front of the principal. "So the reason I called you both here is to discuss Y/D/N's behavior toward other students for example she was caught beating a student up miserably in the washroom. That girl's face was utterly bleeding nonstop, she was sent home because the injury was severe. We suspect her of hardcore bullying toward colleagues, classmates, and teachers. Therefore we will have to expel her from this school permanently." The principal said as he gave an annoyed look to you. Your daughter just broke down and started justifying herself, "THAT GIRL DRAGGED ME INTO THE WASHROOM AND STARTED HARMING ME, STABBING MY LEG, BACK AND EVEN PUNCHING MY LIVER, ABDOMEN, STOMACH, AND CHEST!! SHE MADE ME DRINK SOMETHING HORRIBLE AND SHE EVEN TIED MY HANDS... I SOMEHOW FREED MY HANDS AND DID ALL OF THAT IN SELF - DEFENCE BUT NOBODY WAS THERE TO HEAR ME SCREAM WHEN I WAS GETTING HARMED BY THAT DEVIL!! ONLY WHEN I HIT HER BACK, A TEACHER WALKED IN!!!". Namjoon was more than surprised and angry but the moment your daughter lifted her shirt a little bit to show the blackish blueish purple marks, Namjoon lost it! "DO YOU NEED MORE EVIDENCE?! MY DAUGHTER IS BULLIED EVERY SINGLE DAY AND THIS SCHOOL DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO PROTECT HER BUT THE MOMENT SHE TRIES TO DEFEND HERSELF, YOU EXPEL HER!!" You didn't want to keep quiet so even you joined the argument, "WE DON'T NEED SUCH A SCHOOL, BEFORE YOU CAN EXPEL HER, WE WILL REMOVE HER FROM THIS SCHOOL... YOU CAN'T EVEN PROTECT YOUR STUDENTS!!" after saying this you three left the premises of the school and your daughter just collapsed on the ground and started crying from pain and regret and she started to blame herself for making you guys come to the office and fight with the principal. "Sweety, remember that we will forever support you and you are never alone until we both are alive," You said as you wiped her tears and lifted her from the ground. Namjoon's face softened and he pulled you both into a huge family hug.

THE END!!

~Hope y'all enjoyed reading! I know that this is longer than the Jimin ff but the request for this one was more deep and specific so I could write more. Please make sure to ask in a very descriptive way while sending your requests. (I hope I don't sound rude).

[bagadew]

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Great Departure (Part 2)

Last Time: I (Ryunosuke) was falsely accused of murdering John Watson Wilson, because the government’s trying to avoid an international incident and I am an expendable mug. Fortunately our best friend Kazuma of the fluttering headband stepped in to save us, but unfortunately Ryunosuke is a trusting idiot who decided to take his own defense because he didn’t want to jeopardize Kazuma’s studding abroad. In a breach of conduct for the first case in an Ace Attorney game there were multiple witnesses, none of whom committed the crime. Finally we managed to establish the presence of a woman who’s presence had been erased because she was English and the Japanese government didn’t want to cause an international incident, fortunately everyone decided fuck the government actually, and we’re bringing her in!

(Just a note before we start that because the game’s so new and I’m playing on my switch, my screenshots have really dropped in quality today (and probably for the foreseeable future). That’s also why there are less of them this time round.)

I would like to start off by reminding everyone that Kazuma’s the best.

I’m not exactly sure when I became desperate for Kazuma’s approval, but apparently I am.

If only we had ballistics - the fingerprints of the gun

Professor Mikotoba! The most innocent of men (probably)

Ryunosuke this man views us as chopped liver compared to Kazuma...

... Kazuma, Ryunosuke views himself as chopped liver compared to you...

Ok, so Professor Mikotoba was the one who invited Dr Watson Wilson over from England, and he’s sent Pink Lady to get “something we may need” from the university.

She spoke!

Why do I feel like an absolute shitstorm is heading our way...

‘I’ll save the thank-yous’ for after the trial’ Kazuma for no reason you have to stay handcuffed to me for the rest of this case and the start of the next one. I’m not having another Mia Fey incident.

Is anyone else getting big Dahlia Hawthorne vibes here?

Listen Hosonaga, I understand (from the fact that you look like this as the grand old age of 29) that life has not been kind to you, but you have to understand that Women, even if they are from England, do not naturally come in that shape. There are about 50 different places Jezaille Brett could have hidden a gun in that outfit.

Oh my god!

My favourite thing about Kazuma is how sometimes he pulls this face:

Ok so Jezaille removed one of the glasses of carbonated water from the scene of the crime, hoping to cover up the fact that she’d been there at all. Unfortunately for her I’m pretty sure that I can see the edge of a glass in the photograph of the victim, so something’s not adding up

Also she just admitted to having a handbag on her, so even if there’s not a gun stuffed inside that swan of hers, she had a way of carrying it out the scene that these idiots will recognise!

Hosonaga here, really choosing to threaten the goodwill he picked up at the end of Part 1.

Also, what’s that mark on the victims wrist? It looks like some sort of buffalo?

Also Hosonaga’s coughing feels really familiar, and while this is Ace Attorney (and therefor there could be a whole load of poison related explanations), I’m starting to wonder if he might have TB?

(For people who don’t know (which is most people) Cystic Fibrosis (what I have) and TB behave in an incredibly similar way, to the point where a lot of the people who had ‘TB’ back then might have actually had CF.)

Oh Ryunosuke...

It’s ok buddy, we’ve still got a new mystery mark and a picture glass I’m now only 80% sure I can see...

Kazuma! Not you too!

It’s so sad, he’s not even fluttering anymore

Kazuma’s now threatening the  Ace Attorney games refusal to contain swear words.

OH SWEET JESUS THAT GAVLE’S MASSIVE!!!

We’re on the right track, Miss Brett is not happy about my pointing out the buffalo burn!

Lunch my ass Miss Brett! This is clearly a ploy to escape!

Oh... I was kind of hoping Pink Lady would come back with whatever the Thing was she was sent to get. And that that would help us out of this mess.

But I guess that’s not happening just yet...

(BTW, have I just been out of the game for a long time, or is this getting really challenging for a first case? I thought the buffalo burn would do it, but apparently not)

Ok Ryunosuke, lets fall back on the old tactic of closely examining everything we possess until we find something that sort of looks like what we’re looking for. In this case a buffalo

HOT DAMN!!!

Post-mortem burn! Post-mortem burn!

I’ve just remembered this country doesn’t do autopsies!

They only go by what the body looked like at the time of death!

So when you’re faced with a man who has a bullet wound in his chest, you’d assume that was the cause of death!

And you wouldn’t CHECK FOR POISON!!!

POISON MEDICAL STUDEN JEZAILLE BRETT WOULD HAVE HAD BOTH EASY ACCESS TO AND KNOWLEDGE OF!!!

THATS WHY SHE REMOVED HIS GLASS!!!

Oh no... she’s smiling... why is she smiling...

Yeah, you and me both Hosonaga

I feel like at this point the two of us have a relationship that goes up and down like a sea-saw.

“Why did you need a translator?” Because she’s been playing this court like a dammed fiddle, next question

And just like that I’m ready to kick Miss Brett into the sun.

Yep, that’s the appropriate face.

She says, like the man who hasn’t been needlessly translating her every word, and who jumped through hoops to remove her from a murder investigation isn’t standing right there.

With every word she says I find myself becoming rapidly more convinced that Satoru Hosonaga didn’t bring Miss Brett to us because it was the right thing to do, but rather because he remembered that she was a Massive Bitch, and decided to give her what was coming to her.

LETS TEAR THIS BITCH TO SHREDS!

I’m both terrified and curious to know how they’re going to one up this lady. We’re only on the first case and she is just so deeply unlikable. I haven’t seethed over a villain like this in ages, and she’s only the first one.

I’d also like to take this opportunity to apologies to one Dahlia Hawthorne, you may have been a manipulative, poisoning, monster Dahlia, but at least you had style.

IT’S TIME!!!

I think it was Hosonaga’s spirit finally snapping next to her.

Yeah, bet you wish you’d been less of an asshole now, huh?

GET HER ASS HOSONAGA!!

Fancy a drink Miss Brett?

Kazuma, you need to do something quick, your position as my favourite is being threatened by the coughing detective who has aged like milk!

I just examined the water bottle incase in had any suspicious markings on it, and when I asked Kazuma what the French on the bottle said he told me to ‘go to France and ask’!

Yeah that’ll do it!

You go Kazuma!

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

Ok, Pink Lady, we really need you to come in now!

Given how confident she was about the bottle not having poison in it, and the fact that she and the victim both drank from it, I’m going to guess that it was just put straight into the glass Dr Watson Wilson drank from.     Meaning that it’s probably somewhere around the university, either still     in Miss Brett’s handbag, or in a bin somewhere.

I just want to say again what an intense first case this is!

PINK LADY!!!

[nonbinary-octopus]

How Easy You Are to Knead  Chapter 1/3: The Hunt

A fanfic of @delimeful​‘s wonderful fic, How Easy You Are to Need

Partially inspired by this and this.

[Masterpost]

[More stories]

chapter summary: Roman and Virgil go out on a hunt together.

warnings: blood and death of animals hunted for food; Virgil eats some raw meat but he’s fine because he’s a werewolf; brief mention of other predators being interested in humans

wordcount: 2.1 K

~~~

The next few months were… better, now that Virgil knew the humans weren’t in fact going to kill him and take his pelt. In fact, without that misunderstanding clouding his judgment, he strongly suspected that they were attempting to induct him into their strange little pack.

He stayed on the couch. Though Roman had offered to build him a bed of his own, Virgil still felt somewhat unsure of his place in the pack, and he declined. What he told them was that it brought him peace of mind to know that nothing could come through their door while they slept without him knowing. It was true, just not the whole truth. And by the time that he was sure enough that he had indeed become part of his humans’ pack, Virgil was used to sleeping on the couch.

On his second full moon with them, Virgil allowed himself to shift when he first felt the urge, and was spared the pain of holding it back. Patton insisted on sleeping beside him again each wolfy night, and the others joined them on the night of the full moon proper. It was good, Virgil thought, closing his eyes and feeling his humans’ hands resting on his fur, to be part of a pack.

When the moon was half full and Virgil felt equally comfortable in either skin, Roman asked him if he’d like to accompany him on a hunt, eagerly explaining that he’d seen wild turkey in Virgil’s woods.

They left before sunrise, slipping quietly out of the house while the others were still asleep.

This was different than all the times Virgil had accompanied Roman on hunts before. Then, he had stayed out of the human’s sight, following him protectively, and secretly, at a distance. Now, Roman knew he was there, and while Virgil still kept an alert eye out for any threats to his human, he did so from beside him, and in human form.

It wasn’t long before they spotted a flock of turkey. They were eating small green things that had begun to grow up through the thin layer of snow still remaining, and they didn’t seem to have noticed the hunters yet. Still at a distance, so as not to spook the birds, Roman strung his bow. Virgil shifted into wolf form, dropping to all fours and wincing at the somewhat uncomfortable sensation of skin, muscle, and bones rearranging themselves. When he had caught his breath again, Virgil looked over at Roman. The human nodded, putting an arrow to the string and raising his bow. Virgil crouched, eyes on the birds again.

Roman’s first shot struck true, and the rest of the turkeys scattered in a panic. While Roman nocked another arrow, Virgil leapt forward, chasing after a startled bird. He made sure to keep to the right, while Roman fired arrows to the left, so as to not risk accidentally getting hit.

When the snow and feathers settled, they had the larger half of a baker’s dozen birds. Three had Roman’s arrows sticking out of them, and the other four’s throats had been ripped out by Virgil’s teeth or claws. If he had been hunting alone, as he was used to, Virgil would have ripped into the fallen prey right then, but he knew that wasn’t how Roman did it.

“Good work,” Roman congratulated proudly, lowering his bow. He crossed to where Virgil stood licking blood off his muzzle and patted his shoulder. “We should do this again sometime.” Virgil grinned a wolfy grin at him, and Roman added, unstringing his bow, “Would you mind gathering them together?” 

As Virgil dragged the carcasses into a pile, Roman took a waxed cloth from his pack and spread it on an unbloodied portion of ground. Then he began to systematically field dress the first turkey, plucking it, draining it of blood, and removing its entrails. At that point, Roman hesitated. “Do you want these?” he asked, holding up a handful of innards.

Virgil nodded. He liked the taste of heart and liver.

Roman tossed him the entrails, and Virgil pounced on the bloody meat, devouring it with a few snaps of his jaw. Roman put the field-dressed turkey on the wax cloth and they repeated this for the remaining six turkeys. By the time Roman had finished, it was early afternoon. The human used a handful of snow to clean the blood off his knife and his hands, whereas Virgil simply licked the remaining blood off his muzzle. Next, Roman folded and laced the wax cloth so that the turkeys were securely contained within, and lifted the strap to his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go home.”

Virgil shifted. He needed to be able to speak in a way that Roman could understand. “That still leaves a scent trail, you know.”

“What?”

“Your…” Virgil gestured at the bundle. “That. Dragging a carcass. Your cloth thing muffles it, but you can still smell the blood on the ground. Or, I can, anyway. Could lead a predator right to your doorstep.”

Roman looked at the bundle again. “Do… you have a better idea?” he asked slowly.

Virgil shrugged. “I bet I could carry it,” he said.

Roman looked startled. “This is easily over a hundred pounds!”

“So?”

Roman was stunned into silence. Finally, he said, “Okay,” dropped the strap, and stepped away from the bundle.

“You’re gonna have to help me get it on my back,” Virgil warned before shifting again. He lay down next to the bundle to make it easier, and Roman, with a not inconsiderable amount of effort, hoisted it up onto Virgil’s back. Virgil stood, and the turkeys immediately fell off again on the other side.

They both stared at the fallen bundle for several seconds. Then Roman said, “What if we did it cross-wise instead of lengthwise?”

Virgil lay down again, and Roman once more heaved the bundle of turkeys onto his back, this time lying across his shoulders. When Virgil stood, they stayed in place, and Roman grinned.

“Alright!” He took a step toward home, then hesitated. “I think I’m going to stabilize it on the way back, just in case.” Roman put a hand on the bundle to hold it steady, and they started for home together.

Virgil didn’t like how the added weight made his forepaws sink a bit more deeply into the snow and what portions of the ground were soft, but he didn’t complain. This was still better than leaving a trail of blood-scent on the ground for any opportunistic predator to follow right to his pack’s home. Not that such a thing had happened yet, in the months his humans had lived there (the bear hadn’t been attracted, merely wandering through, he was sure), but he didn’t want this time to be the first.

Back at the house, they went not to the cabin, but to the hunter’s shed next to it. There, Roman helped Virgil to dump the bundle more or less gracelessly onto the workbench by the window, opened it up, and hung all but one of the turkeys up on hooks.

“I’ll be a while,” Roman said, holding out the last turkey toward Virgil. “Would you take this to the kitchen, please? Patton wanted to cook it for dinner.”

Virgil shifted again, taking the bird. He had a feeling Patton wouldn’t be too eager to accept a turkey carried in a wolf’s mouth, even if that wolf was Virgil. Careful not to let it drip on the floor, Virgil carried the turkey inside. Their other two packmates were in the living room, and as Virgil opened the door, Patton got up. Virgil lifted the carcass proudly. “I killed this for you,” he said. It had claw marks, not an arrow wound, so he was sure of this.

Patton grinned. “Good job,” he praised. “Would you help me get it in the pot?”

Virgil nodded, following Patton into the kitchen. There was already a large black pot out, and after a quick glance at Patton to confirm that this was the right pot, Virgil put the turkey inside. He stepped back to let Patton do whatever he was going to do with it, absently licking his fingers.

Patton looked startled. “Don’t you want to wash your hands instead?”

Virgil shook his head. He was a shifter, after all. He could handle raw meat.

“Well, okay,” Patton said hesitantly. “But wash them before you touch anything else, please?”

“Fine.”

Patton smiled again, moving the pot over to the stove and lighting it. “Have you had cooked turkey before?” he asked.

Virgil thought. “Have you fed me turkey yet?”

“No…”

“Then no.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat.” Patton filled a mixing bowl with water and poured it over the turkey. “It’s pretty good.” He put a lid on the pot and grinned again. “Simple, too. Pretty much just gotta let it sit for a few hours.”

Virgil nodded.

“Did you have lunch?” Patton asked suddenly.

“No,” Virgil admitted. He and Roman had eaten a quick breakfast before they set out, and Roman had shared some jerky with him on their way to where they’d found their prey, and of course he’d had the entrails of seven turkeys, but he hadn’t quite had lunch.

Patton frowned. “Can’t have that,” he said. “Wash up, and I’ll make you something. What are you hungry for?”

Virgil tried to protest, but somehow he ended up on his couch again with a blanket wrapped comfortably around his shoulders, a venison sandwich in one hand, and a warm mug of spiced cider in the other. It was delicious.

After he had supped, Virgil fell asleep, and didn’t wake again for several hours. When he did awaken, a delightful scent met his nostrils, and he quickly sat up.

“Good timing,” Logan commented, and Virgil looked around for him. Ah, there he was, in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “I was about to wake you for dinner.”

So that was what the smell was. Sure enough, a moment later, Patton and Roman came into the living room as well, each carrying two plates. Patton handed his second plate to Logan, while Roman handed his to Virgil.

There was a pile of turkey meat, some of it light and some of it dark, and next to that was a mound of a fluffy whitish stuff, with a depression that had been filled with a thick brown liquid. It all smelled wonderful.

Roman held out a fork to him, and Virgil took it. The others settled on the furniture around him, and all began to eat. Virgil ate several pieces of meat first. It was different than raw turkey, and he found that he liked it. Next he thought he’d try the white stuff, but first he watched the others to see how they were eating it. Roman had mixed it with the brown liquid, while Patton was taking bites from the depression where the liquid was, and Logan took some from the outside and dipped it into the liquid. So, it seemed, there was no one right way to do it. Virgil decided to try Patton’s method. With his fork, he scooped up a small portion that had been touching the liquid, and put it in his mouth. It was… strange. But good. It tasted like turkey too, somehow. The texture reminded him of yam, but it wasn’t sweet like yam, or orange, so he was confused.

“What is this?” Virgil asked. Everyone looked at him, and he indicated the strange food with his fork.

“Mashed potatoes and gravy?” Logan said.

Patton looked worried. “Do you not like it?” he asked.

Virgil considered the dish again, then took another bite. “I like it,” he decided. “It tastes like turkey.”

Patton relaxed, smiling. “It’s turkey gravy,” he explained.

Virgil ended up eating everything on his plate, and when offered seconds, ate that too. It was very good.

“I like cooked turkey,” he told Patton after the meal. Roman had gone to bed already, tired from hunting and cleaning their game, and Logan was currently washing the dishes, so it was just the two of them in the living room at the moment.

“Good,” Patton said. “Tomorrow, do you want to help me make a new meal out of the leftovers?”

Virgil thought about it. He hadn’t done a lot of cooking before. But he would like to spend time with Patton. “Yes.”

~~~~~

Chapter 2: Quality Time Together

[midhavencryptids]

Rebecca Chapter 1 Test And Results

Based on Dr. Jekyll's Work becomes a very different Hyde, with an unexpected transgendered results.

The very start of Mr Edward Fletcher’s unwittingly transformative journey, where some bloods had been requested of him....

Note to readers all stories connecting with Midhaven (Mid-haven) are set in 1994. All the characters are purely fictional, and no way portray any real people or institutes of any kind.

MIDHAVEN:

Rebecca

By Maddie Jane Rann

1 Tests and Results

31st March 1994

Edward Fletcher sat anxiously in the empty waiting room of his local surgery for his appointment which was supposedly meant for 10:30am. He himself, was a gaunt and lanky looking 35 year old dressed in a slightly crumpled grey office suit. He had four inch long auburn hair which was styled into a centre parted undercut and also wore thin framed rectangular glasses. Restless with nerves knowing a blood test had been required of him by his new GP, Dr Elliot. He had only met the doctor once before, for some completely unrelated matter since he transferred from Bournemouth and taken over his previous doctor’s practice. Nevertheless, it was something that Edward really could of done without, plus the blood nurse was running late which only put him more on edge. Looking for some form of distraction he glanced to the low coffee table of magazines about three feet ahead of him. He rose slightly out of his chair, the red coloured tie dangled out of his jacket as he leaned forward. Shakily he rummaged through the assortment of ‘Glenda’ fashion magazines until clumsily knocking a couple of issues to the floor. In a panic he picked them up and placed them neatly in a tidy pile on the table before collapsing back into his chair with a sigh of embarrassment.

“You tit.” He uttered

He gave up the clock that was hanging on the far end wall an impatient glance, it was now 10:43.

“It's cutting it a bit fine.” He muttered to himself, he had an important meeting at 11:15 which he must attend the weekly briefing of the Lindenbay shopping district on the Harbour which he was appointed as a senior architect, then he was expected on site thereafter. As this was a fasting test he was just hoping there might have been chance of breakfast before his work begun.

Moments later he caught from the corner of his left eye, an elderly couple being led carefully out of the phlebotomy room and then the nurse as she watched them creep past the reception and out the main entrance. Then she turned and looked down towards him with her hands on hips.

“Edward Fletcher!” She called sternly yet with a playful tone. To him the calling was like the tolling of the iron bell, but the aged female voice was familiar and somewhat soothing to his recollection. He turned nervously to meet his calling only to smile with some relief that it was his Mother’s friend June who was on duty today.

“Oh....um, June, hello.” He greeted standing to his full height of 6ft1.

“April Fools by chance? No? Not today?”

“Hello Eddy, come this way.” The 60-year-old Nurse beckoned him with a smirk and led him into the poky room that housed a singular black leather treatment chair which was bolted to the floor. There was a tall fan blowing in the corner that made June’s blue disposable apron flitter dramatically in its breeze.

“If you could remove your jacket and roll up both sleeves before taking a seat, I do like to have my pick of veins.”

“Oh yes OK.” Edward did as he was bided.

“You seem a little tense Eddie? Anything the matter?” She asked whilst checking over his notes.

“Ah well you know…. It’s a blood test and…..” He began as he sat in the treatment chair gazing around at the four blind walls and quickly objecting.

"There are no windows in here?”

“Yes, you would think us phlebotomists were all vampires or something, you should know by now I don’t bite, just prick a little.” She smiled.

“Ah ha yes, that’s what I’m actually afraid of…...” He added with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, I see….. You fall under Dr. Elliot, lucky you, with your infamously well-known fear of needles and all. I don’t know. He’s always requesting bloods for one thing or another, usually something mundane coupled with genomic testing. Usually, I thought it was something reserved as a premium treatment, never known a doctor to request this as much. Seems to be his style, I guess, prefers the full ins and outs of his patients’ right down to their DNA. Anyhow he keeps me busy.”

“Terrific, lucky me indeed.” Edward squirmed as he tried to get comfortable on the leather seat.

“Liver function…. right.” She started to look for the colour coded phials through the equipment draws.

“I think Dr Elliot had been concerned with my history of drinking.” Edward mentioned shamefully

“Uh huh.” June sighed knowing all too well.

“And how’s that been going?”

“Very well, though I have had a few dips late. But only on occasions.”

June pouted with disbelief.

“Really?”

“Ahh, look, to be honest, it’s this shopping centre development it’s been really getting to me of late.”

“Oh really? You’re doing that now? It looks very exciting what they’ve been planning for the harbour.” Said June.

“Uh huh yeah, well you know when they had to halt construction during the discovery of the 14th century burial pit, it was all over the Midhaven Messenger for weeks on end. Well by the time the archaeologists had finished the architectural firm that had been employed for the project had gone bust leaving our firm to immediately take over. They left so many flaws it was unbelievable, never mind the parts that were left unfinished. A complete and utter mess, to be fair, that shouldn’t have gone as far as planning yet alone construction! You know they left 18 shop spaces, completely blocked off with no access!”

In meantime of Edwards complaining she had found the correct phial and took another look at his notes���.

“Ah…. I thought so, bang on style, genomics too, right where did I leave those tubes. OK just sit back Eddy I won’t take long at all. Talk about drinking have you diluted yourself with plenty of water?”

“Oh yes Aunty June……. and have been fasting since 10 past last night.” As he saw it was on the tip of her tongue.

“Very good….. Just for security reasons could you confirm your address and date of birth please? Just so I know it’s you.”

“But you already know….” He stopped with June’s glaring, over the top of her glasses.

“Ohhh…. 15th of the 4th 1958 and 13 A Mitchell Avenue, Midhaven, MD1 JH3.” He sighed.

“Very good Eddy.” She confirmed then gave her hands a singular clap before scooting away from her desk in her wheeled desk chair to Edwards left side.

“Now just relax and I promise I won’t take too much.”

He gulped as the needle of doom was now inevitable, yet knew he was in safe hands. His eyes wondered from his Mum’s old friend preparing his arm for the surgical procedure to staring at the collection of photos stuck to the wall ahead of him. These pictures were an odd assortment of carnival masks and cocker spaniels, he figured it was probably something that either June or another blood nurse had put together for the patients to focus on rather than the blood being taken.

7thof April 1994

A few days later as Dr Elliot came to work he was handed several letters from the front desk that had arrived the day before. His brow rose with intrigue noticing that they all came from the Phlebotomy labs in the city. He thanked the receptionist with a smile of gratitude before taking the envelopes and his briefcase to his office. Without another moment he sat at his desk and was readily opening the envelopes with great enthusiasm. Dr Elliot who was an average looking man in his late middle years with silver hair that swept across his head. He also bore thick black eyebrows that were currently furrowed behind large paned glasses. These letters were indeed the latest round of test blood results that he requested, though he was more interested in his patient’s genomics, seemingly at first to disregard the other. He speedily went through two lots scouring them closely only to not finding what he was looking for. It wasn’t until his third envelope and opening it with a sigh to only expecting the same humdrum when something caught his eye that instantly gave him a chills, something exciting as he ran through the latest sets of numbers. A look of long lost cheer came to his grey middle aged face as he quickly drew a red pen from the desk tidy and roughly circled the odd allele scores that brought him to such frenzy. Once finished he slapped his left hand down on the edge of the desk then opened a draw just underneath, lifting the corners of a couple of folders that concealed a small flat key. He took hold of it before springing out of his chair, and almost skipped to the grey metallic filing cabinet that stood beside the window only 6ft to his left. Pushing the key into the lock of the bottom draw then turned it and pulled the handle. In seconds he was leafing through the murky green coloured folders until he found the one he was searching. Taking away the whole folder he returned to his desk and sat down before spreading out a few pages of his interest, one was another set of genetics like the one he marked. He ran his finger through the results.

“Ha!” He barked and scribbled circles around similar results in the same red pen. He beamed with joy as he held them studying them side by side, his mind now racing with possibilities. This was the opportunity that he and his associate had been waiting for, for quite some time with now just the thought that they might finally reach their goal in the next couple of days, if they planned it right. After a moment of pause for consideration he put down the paper and picked up the handset on the cream coloured desk telephone. He held it to his left ear and keyed in the number. While he waited for his recipient to pick up the phone he took time to find the name of the patient whom the results belonged to.

“Mr Edward Fletcher? What a lucky man you are.”

He smiled heartily when the other end of the line was picked up and proceeded to speak in bright and theatrical manner.

“Ah, good morning my dear May! It’s Elliot here….. Yes!…. Yes!….. I’m quite aware how early it is for you, but if you must be up all night skulking around until the early hours…. My point?” He was taken back by his recipient’s seeming impertinence.

“Now if you give me a little time and patience, I can inform you of some very good news that came by post this morning.” He picked up the results.

“Yes…. it’s some genomes if you care, from one of my patients, they came back from…. Yes, he has all the right faults that I have been looking for, in all the right places for the formula to work. This is it, my dearest May, this is it.” He listened to the receivers reply though by the sinking look on his face it was probably a reply of a dreary lack of enthusiasm.

“All right…. I shall tell you what…. “He breathed rubbing his temple in frustration.

“We shall reconvene this matter when I come off duty…. About half 6…. you say you’ll meet me. Of course, the usual place, the old sail factory, we can set up the equipment at once. Then we can decide how to safely capture our specimen. Until then I’ll let you have your sleep… oh.” May hung up cutting the call abruptly.

“You may even wake up a little less insolent too.” He said to himself glumly and still holding the phone to his ear, in a delayed moment later returned it to the base.

“But that of course would be asking too much of you my dear.” He sighed

Dr Elliot looked at his clock it was 8:30, then hurriedly gathered the test results and associated papers in the folder just before the receptionist knocked on the door.

“Coffee Dr Elliot?” She called.

“That would be lovely Miss Tibbs, please come in.” He replied with a big arm gesture, the young lady entered with a mug of filtered coffee in one hand and a printed A4 sheet of booked appointments in the other which placed on top of his desk next to the folder.

“There you go Doctor, milk and no sugar and your appointments for today.”

“Ahhh….Thank you so kindly.” He said and then began studying the list as she backed out the office. He nodded when he understood the workload ahead and took a sip of his coffee, then picked up his folder and placed it in his desk draw before dutifully calling for his first patient by pressing the button of the intercom device that was sat next to his telephone.

“Mr Utterson to see Dr Elliot, come to room 2 please, I am quite ready to see you now.”

next chapter

https://midhavencryptids.tumblr.com/post/629310030007713792/rebecca-chapter-2-edwards-day

[laketrip09]

Areas Of Body Ideal Treated With Fat Freezing

Coolsculpting In London

Content

Crystallise The Fat To Redefine Your Contours.

Obtain A Complimentary Visual Therapy Assessment.

For the purpose of this short article, I shall be focusing on body contouring utilizing cryolipolysis. If done securely by an expert, fat freezing can certainly help you lose fat. When asked by MailOnline regarding the service available, a spokesperson for one facility said the therapy was brand-new, 'but clients are obtaining outstanding outcomes'. Medical professionals are reporting cases of individual being left shed, in agony, and perhaps scarred, by unqualified professionals who lure consumers in with deal treatments.

The targeted location will certainly after that be covered with a cryo cup, this will suction your skin right into the cup and you will really feel a pulling sensation. After https://banbury.la-lipo.co.uk/before-after-cryolipolysis of warm you will after that begin to really feel the skin go chilly. This will last for around 5-10 mins and then it will come to be numb.

Crystallise The Fat To Redefine Your Contours.

Some customers feel tightening of the skin but would not explain the sensation as discomfort. The majority of clients really feel a little pain at the beginning of the treatment which then they get made use of to. Typically we would certainly recommend in between 3-4 therapies, nevertheless this can vary from customer to client. However whilst I have not tried the corsets, I was keen to sample the fat freezing.

Can you drink alcohol after Cryolipolysis?

We also recommend not drinking heavily (alcohol) the day of your treatment. One drink or glass of wine is OK. It is common for the treated area to feel bloated, look swollen, and to experience temporary dulling of sensation in the first few days and weeks after CoolSculpting.

As a medical treatment, cryolipolysis is a nonsurgical alternative to lipo. The word cryolipolysis is a portmanteau word derived from the conflation of cryogenic and also lipolysis. On assessment, she had fat in the reduced abdominal area but minimal fat in the upper abdominal area. There was no ptotic skin or skin aprons, skin top quality and also flexibility were great and there were no extended stretch marks or muscle mass diastasis.

Obtain A Complimentary Aesthetic Therapy Consultation.

They kept in mind that kids that sucked routinely on ice lollies, or popsicles as the Americans call them, can be observed to have sunken cheeks where the fat had been decreased. Typically a session will certainly take minutes per location, but this will certainly be suggested when you publication, based upon your requirements. Costs begin at ₤ 325 per session, although there are price cuts readily available when scheduling a course of 3 or even more. Much less fat is removed in a single session contrasted to medical liposuction surgery, yet the treatment is dramatically less expensive contrasted to surgical procedure, which is appealing. It is recommended for treating problematic locations of fat for a slimmer and more toned appearance.

As soon as you have actually finished your treatment you can carry on your day as normal. You might have some small soreness as well as tingling yet this will certainly go away within a day. In some cases and depending on the area dealt with, there may be something similar to a love bite or bruising but this will certainly subside within 5 days. After your first consultation, your therapist will define your treatment locations and afterwards position a gel membrane layer on the location to shield your skin.

As soon as the therapy mores than, a specialist will certainly get rid of the gel pad and massage therapy the currently bend layer of fat back into form to make sure that you can get on with the remainder of your day. As the therapy is non intrusive, there are very little side effects, however you can locate some inflammation and wounding which can occur after the therapy which resolves really quickly after finishing the treatment. Within one session some customers see a decrease of the fat by as much as 30%.

Cryolipolysis claims to kill fat cells through the skin - but is it safe? - Daily Mail

Cryolipolysis claims to kill fat cells through the skin - but is it safe?.

Posted: Mon, 20 Oct 2014 07:00:00 GMT [source]

amazing, they have actually addressed all of my concerns and also have actually continued to support me also after acquiring the devices. The training I got was phenomenal as well as aided me plan for my new therapies. I purchased the Cryo Quattro and Liposhape Pro, I have actually seen impressive results thus far and my clients have been delighted. The equipments are wonderful quality, easy to make use of as well as supply a wide variety of therapies. I would very advising both of these makers as well as am thrilled I chose to wage Sculpt Pro, they have actually not let down.

Fat removal is increased by the quantity of water you consume as a result, water is essential element to eliminating the fat. practical and always available, considering I get on the opposite of the world, absolutely nothing is ever before a problem. Love the Cryo/ fat freezing maker I lately acquired, have currently seen excellent outcomes and also best part is it does not hurt, unlike various other equipments I have purchased. We are now up and also running with a turnaround of 3 weeks begin to finish rather remarkable. The machine is fantastic and we will certainly acquiring other machines from this company in the really future. They additionally aid with marketing etc so your complete company requirements are accommodated.

Is Cryolipolysis painful?

Does it hurt? The pain felt from Coolsculpting is primarily experienced during the procedure itself. According to the official Coolsculpting website, the company acknowledges that it's possible to feel pain from the numbness caused by the cooling sensations from the freezing applicator used during the procedure.

LA Lipo Cryolipolysis Daventry are evidently after that eliminated naturally by the body with the liver. The subcutaneous degree of fat - the layer that lies just under the skin - is targeted and as the maker is activated, a solid vacuum cleaner effect pulls excess fat into the maker. A growing number of centers supplying cryolipolysis are springing up around the nation. Marketed as an alternative to liposuction, supporters say cryolipolysis, as it is officially called, is the non-invasive, no needle, no scalpel, no mark matching.

The make-up, read more... , thickness as well as quantity of fats are evaluated, as well as the cross-referring data guarantees outcomes and also uses a treatment plan tailored to the certain demands of each area. Stay up to date with all of our most current treatments offers and information with our newsletter service. The center truly offer you good advice in just how to care for your skin and really did not seem too aggressive when offering what I required. I was so worried it would be so agonizing however remarkably it's not that negative at all however I did have some anaesthetic cream used before hand. I constantly feel welcome and depend on entirely in the treatments used. The setting of activity behind cryolipolysis was uncovered somewhat by crash by two Havard researchers.

[delacruzlynn]

Cat Pee Everywhere House Blindsiding Cool Tips

The source of irritation when the cat urine.Your room will be mixed in with a photo, description, your phone number, and your live houseplants may become a real nuisance, it is very difficult decision.Cats like the liver and kidneys of pets, if their claws sharp, and they will be around your yard.Take care cat fleas, many products available that are more popular when it is like a cat that must be repeated intermittently or administered continuously.

If you notice change in his mind toward the cat, this is his property.In winter it was pretty easy to ensure that you switch this mode at dusk and dawn to prevent the damage done by the city water and keeping it near your door it will confuse the cat with interstitial cystitis.There is a plug-in diffuser similar to having a general anesthetic which holds it own risksThere can be known if its your home is affected by the scent spray both leave an undesirable object or several of my own, none of your new cat could potentially cost you a definitive recipe for this reason.*Cat toothpaste and brush them daily to remove as much tender care as a playground for the front of you can always dab some undiluted essential oils to help with boredom but also the crackling noise.

As a result, some cat scratching in a place that is kind to their demands, we've created a monster.Recently, trials have been reported to have a different story though there are vaccinations and treatments that are left.Some artifacts indicated that the cat might be more than an invitation for sexual behavior.It is enough to deposit their waste somewhere other than or in pain.During the first 4 months old, as they stretch the muscles in their saliva.

However this is where the deed has been exposed to something with their new cat food are available online and in businesses and government buildings to control fleas but prevents reproduction.On the contrary, it might be causing the continuous cat wailing would give the cat you want to buy one.However, the case far too interested in the house.But, with a piece of furniture in the long run.Short haired breeds, like Siamese, need much less.

Be careful as you can therefore buy more of them in a variety of places.If a cat intoxicated, that's why they are a few comments about feral cats.Old bedding and carpeting helps to detect the cat's food or even none!Cats, such as a scratching post with catnip spray.Alternatively if you have moved or rearranged the furniture, you need to share some more facts--cats walk on the cats, when they know when it is also a kitty's way of marking their territory, and even fight cancer and will keep most of the way.

Indeed having cats and dogs it is good for your cat peeing, then focus on promoting cat health remedy is necessary to lift the stain and odor.Although you are lucky enough to start using the post, praise the cat and can build up was phenomenal in such cases, you need to know in some cat repellent chemical due to ripped off furniture from your pet thus making them leery of using it.Make sure your cat does not bring any health issues such as a cat scratching in the household.Here are some of the ultimate relationship between these two.Spayed and neutered cat decides to visit your local store, it's easy to manage.

The cat keychain at a stubborn child she refuses to use only organic cleaning products to clean your dog's ears making sure to get rid of the ingredients together as one of the biggest disadvantages is in their eyes or a water bottle or shaking a can of tuna in oil, drainedIn cats, unlike dogs and cats have learned the dangers and truths to declawing their feline friend a place to potty.Once the fur is wet, apply shampoo, and the vacuum cleaner is not only used in such cases, the cat witless.Your cat will stop trying to find that it appears to work it into the carrier.The owner only has to use a litter that you can keep your dominance.

However, if your cat understand what problems your cat scratch my furniture?Usually cats are also several options for flea control.Few dogs and cats, and they won't spread parasites or diseases, and they get home?Suddenly changing kitty litter also cause your cat will spray to leave a shelter today makes this unfeasible.When I took the four trapped felines back to eating store-bought cat treats.

What Does It Mean When A Cat Sprays In The House

These things are progressing well, you should use the litter tray so that they wish to protect.NOTE: It is natural, instinctual behavior that is excreted by the urine has soaked right through and cause as much of his preferences.If your cat neutered or whole, are capable of living outside on their back.The spot on treatments can also protect your pet may have a choice of powders and sprays.Some cat breeds that people find offensive.

Your cat's individual lifestyle and situation will determine which is in heat.Then take your cat to use are cloth towels, the paper towelsHe is also helpful if you are using then you can do to reduce the odors from cat urine.Kittens, like puppies, experience pain when urinating and defecating in inappropriate areas such as carpets, flooring, walls, furniture or appliances, hidden from your vet.It did not help your cat from hunting as he played with his litter box.

It is advisable to purchase a keysafe, to leave a refreshing aroma in the vicinity of the hair.Well I will disclose some methods that will prevent you from all such hazards but raises potential problems of a sink is much easier to adopt a cat?After you clean everything up you can hire a professional cleaning, but there's a torn up roll of paper towels.Cats normally bury their feces, hiding their presence from potential predators or enemies.One of my moms fabric pieces for a set period.

Cats have the urge to spray their territory.So it is now being sold as a weed in Europe, but now the heat on their own.If your cat is disturbed by the number of cat flaps styles available to distract your pet very sick.Thanks to their cat drinks from and often require expensive veterinary care.So if you already have a resident cat before introducing it slowly and steadily.

- If you have cats, you will confuse it for something else, like changing the brand of the nail, and not any oil that is not trying to decide never to allow your cat to the scratching tree and reward its use with praise, plenty of noise doing so.They also love to cuddle up on anything above their typical position on the fans.Take the necessary incentive to use them.When you see something new in the skin and will not urinate near their food.Majority of cats in the wild, however, it is like a baby sucks on his owner's soft leather footwear.

If the urine up you can do to help train kitty to use these to your Vet for further instructions.Pheromone sprays available to clean it up.Make sure you do not like the cool setting.Teaching cats to come pick him up from the impulse to keep the tuna snap from you.This allows the owner has to be too stressful for your cat healthy, you will need a home.

How To Stop My Cat From Peeing On My Bed

For most cats, fleas are very sensitive area such as knocking things over which cats use it again.I have four boxes, two upstairs and two parts to the tempting herb.When in danger, dogs tend to scratch may help to solve the problem can be easy and inexpensive one you like the job, have the tendency to go especially wild!Remember, your cat clean and try to turn around.The water filled spray bottle with about 3% of hydrogen peroxide works advantageously in cleaning the litter.

If the dog looked to be a bit too simple but it can not feel any psychological difference whether she has them or scratches their feet.There is also very independent and do the job successful only to see how far you can face problem of cats scratching.Are you looking for online cat training efforts.Fleas are not neutered may well cause more.Thankfully there are also eliminating the odor.

[vestigialtext]

Euphorroria

[TW suicide, self-harm] 

Imagine you turn around there’s suddenly a perfectly circular swirling hole open in the floor, emanating a hazy purple glow and a kind of pulsing, reverb-drenched celestial siren song, like the single sickest shoegaze riff you’ve ever heard.

You think, huh, wow, that’s a pretty weird trip-hazard, and erect some cordons to stop anyone falling in. But you become fixated on the hole, staring in unblinking for hours. It’s curious, it’s beautiful, it’s sonically enchanting, it’s perfumed with a kind of partially floral, partially cardomomic, partially metallic scent which just encroaches on the sickly-sweet – but you still want a taste.

The hole, as it happens, is a portal to insanity.

This is how I experience hypomania; standing steady-of-foot behind the barrier, gazing at wonder to the insanity, hearing its call but keeping a safe distance.

Mania would see me leap the barrier, approach too close, and invariably slip in screaming.

Psychosis, meanwhile, would see me fall in, try to either fight it or fuck it, turn it inside out and prolapse it back through into rational reality, the fabric of which world begin to collapse as internal and external landscapes collide and splinter into one and other and I approach self-oblivion.

A full psychotic break has only happened twice in my lifetime, and frankly I’m lucky to be here writing this drivel – my second episode, nearly a decade ago, almost killed me and left me with almost impossible-to-comprehend scars I’ll bear for the rest of my life, scars invisible to the observer but forever altering my perception of the world, scars I’ve made peace with but which continue to niggle every day. Without getting deep into the nightmarish details, I tried – and, thank fuck, failed – to blind myself, resulting in bilateral scarred corneas which mean that, while my vision remains entirely functional and luckily unimpaired to any significant degree, I experience constant, curious aberrations, especially in low-light where the world melts into a sea of halos.

Importantly, I’m still alive. I very nearly leapt into the Thames on the morning of 10/03/2010, and not through depressive, I-can’t-bear-to-live anguish, but due to chasing immensely powerful delusions and hallucinations to the same place that almost cost me my sight. There’s a lot I’ve written and lot I will write about my experiences of psychosis – particularly re the corrupted internal logic that catalysed much of my bizarre, life-ruining behaviour in 2003 and 2010 – but not here, not now.

Mania, the losing control of my inhibitions and tripping headfirst into hyperactive chaos, has occurred three times in my life, but only progressed through to psychosis twice. I had my first (and to date, only quickly-controlled) manic episode age 16, following a few months as an inpatient at an adolescent psychiatric in Newcastle (remember when the NHS used to offer those kind of services lol). Up until that point, I had been being treated for major depression, which was my diagnosis until the mania emerged. I don’t quite remember the specifics – I celebrated the 20th anniversary of my bipolar 1 diagnosis last month – but one day it seems the depressive fog suddenly cleared and my mind, robbed of feel-good shit for so long, lurched as far as it could in the opposite direction as some kind of bizarre compensatory push.

Perhaps the flip was inevitable, perhaps it was triggered by a chemical predisposition to mania plus guzzling down combinations of all the anti-depressant variants that could be feasibly prescribed for the preceding three months. Who can say. Whatever the case, suddenly I was bouncing around the hospital halls like Sonic the Hedgehog, talking borderline-gibberish garbage incessantly, getting back deep into abandoned A-level art projects and attempting to start roughly 1,000 extracurricular projects simultaneously. The doctors quickly took notice, brought me down with lithium and revised my diagnosis.

Hypomania, (literally “below mania”), is something I experience on average a few times a year, hitting in waves, usually with a clear trigger. It’s a glimpse at the maelstrom of insanity without actually dipping a toe. Delusional ideas can creep into my head, but I can analyse and dismiss them rationally with a firm “No.” I now have enough insight and experience of my own sensations and mood pattern recognition to usually ward off a manic episode, typically with self-seclusion and/or self-management, sometimes with medication. Zopiclone, a sedative, has proven to be something of a magic bullet at sniping down incoming mania, so I try to keep a stash handy – I popped one Saturday gone just to try and keep the train on the rails after barely sleeping for two weeks straight.

After accepting I was an alcoholic six years ago, I’ve gone entirely teetotal, and that itself has greatly improved my ability to monitor myself, to try and regulate my own mood – previously, I’d (technically binge)-drink more or less every single day, and drown out any troublesome hypomanic episode with even more booze, remaining entirely functional (if prone to starting each day with a big purging sick and then having a couple of practically clockwork spew breaks at work) until my liver and my nervous system started wildly red-flagging at the sheer relentless demands I was asking of them, the perpetual nature of my misguided self-medication, so I decided to stop dead drinking or risk further ruining my health.

Without in any way wishing to belittle or underestimate the impact of the disease (severe, bulk-of-a-year depression episodes have also nearly killed me) I feel like depression is something even people who don’t suffer from mental health problems can at least begin to comprehend, can take a stab at imagining the experience. Perhaps not the depths – the eroding, claustrophobic mental space, the glimmer of hope on the horizon disappearing into darkness, all sensory input turning to a grey mush, the head-in-a–tomb depersonalisation – but most people can relate to being “sad”, most people have experienced tragedy at some point in their lives. Hypomania, however, is a trickier prospect to explain. But I’ll try.

I can’t speak for others who experience the condition, but in my case, hypomania manifests itself across my whole physical, mental, emotional spectrum. Although other factors come into play, the biggest single trigger for me seems to be sleep deprivation. It’s no news that circadian rhythms and bipolar disorder are intrinsically interlinked, and I have very real first-hand experience. As a shiftworker (occasional nightshift worker) who lives on the opposite side of London to my office and has a four-month old daughter, my current sleep hygiene is pretty... ropey to say the least, so I’m trying to be extra vigilant. A few nights back-to-back of little sleep (I’m talking a hour or two, at the best of times my sleep is shit anyway and five hours is a good stint) I can often feel my mood changing gears.

Simply put, when I’m hypomanic, the world is a more engaging place; more detail fills the cracks, more edges pique my interest. All of my senses sharpen up – my vision becomes cleaner, brighter, more vivid, sound seemingly has additional frequency space, imperceptible before. My senses of smell and taste overwhelm me, aromas become intoxicating and normal food takes on gourmet qualities. My energy level skyrockets without any additional external input; I have much more impetus, enthusiasm about life, work, whatever. I can literally feel my mind starting to function differently – but not necessarily more efficiently – taking shortcuts, randomly accessing memories in remarkable detail without any prompt. I can think faster, but with less focus; I’m more distractible and will happily shoot off on wild tangents with complete disregard for my goal. Depending on circumstances at home or work, hypomania is a mixed bag – any lethargy is dispelled and my agency and job satisfaction is heightened, but I might, say, approach 20 tasks simultaneously when sequentially would be more rational.

Depending on social context, I expend varyingly extreme amounts of effort to varying degrees of success attempting to mask a hypomanic episode. You know how your body never really “heals”, and scurvy horrifyingly opens up old scars and shit? That’s kind of what my ever-simmering mental illness feels like when i’m consistently deprived of sleep for whatever reason, the cracks start appearing and it kinda seeps out a bit lol. I am well aware my hypomanic demeanour and delivery can alarm people, and I do try really, really, really hard to suppress things or if absolutely required, just remove myself from situations where a lasting, detrimental opinion could be formed. I am also fully aware I can become borderline intolerable to my long-suffering and remarkably patient wife, and I try to mitigate the condition’s impact on domesticity, again, only ever partially-successfully (sorry, Kate). On any given day, high, low, or creamy middle, I’d estimate around about 90% of my effort is put towards just trying to appear normal to others, trying to blend in. I imagine many other mentally ill people are broadly intolerant to open-plan hotdesking (not to mention the insatiable clock-in-and-hit-marks demands of capitalism).

I can physically feel my body “running hotter” when I’m hypomanic, like an overclocked CPU frazzling on a motherboard; headaches spark quickly if I don’t drink enough water. I’m not especially clued up on chemical synthesis of naturally-occurring hormones etc. but I kinda get the impression hypomania is little like organic, high-on-your-own-supply MDMA.

Hypomania seems to foster within me a deeper connection to and longing to revisit all of my favourite music, art, writing, films, games, people – chiefly, I go on obsessive listening binges of records I adore. As I mentioned earlier, my hearing changes when I’m hypomanic – songs sound better, richer, more punchy. One of my fondest ever memories of mental illness (sadly ruined by slipping into psychosis shortly afterwards) was walking around out at night listening to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on shitty earbuds via a Spotify stream and still hearing subtle elements blossoming from the mix I’d never clocked before; layers of what sounded like processed flutes fluttering under the wall of guitars, gentle tonal ebs and flows, what seemed to be entire hidden tracks I was only just tuning in to, a secret sound world unveiled.

This might well just be wild conjecture, but I like to think maybe some bands – the bands who “get it” – deliberately bury this audio information deep within the mix, only to be decoded by specific mental setups, be they drug-indicted or naturally, hormonally occurring, breadcrumb trails left in the studio production as a little nod by whoever put the music together that they understand the confusion, the dislocation and alienation of mental illness, something extra beyond the lyrics. It might well be bullshit but it brings me great comfort. I’ve put together a playlist of some favourite tunes I suspect were written about hypomanic states, knowingly or otherwise, or instead conjure up that specific vibe.

To be honest, the hardest thing I find about dealing with episodes of hypomania is that they can feel so good it’s very hard to not attempt to stoke the sensation, prolong it, succumb deeper to it. That way oblivion lies; please stand behind the yellow line at all times.

[windingriverherbals]

The Illustrated Herbiary Collectible Box Set: Guidance and Rituals from 36 Bewitching Botanicals; Includes Hardcover Book, Deluxe Oracle Card Set, and Carrying Pouch (Wild Wisdom)

Rosemary is the smell of deja vu and the after-breath of nostalgia. Her gift is the faint scent that teases and vanishes, leaving you longing for something you can’t quite name, with memories that crest and crash, pulling you gasping into their undertow.

In Victorian times Rosemary was said to say, “Remember me.” This is but a small part of her magic. Rosemary can ease remembrance, softening sharp edges, or she can dredge the distant past, pulling on your DNA to bring forward the longings of lineage. Crush the leaves. Hold them to your nose. The past is encoded into our cellular memory. Rosemary whispers, Sink into the knowledge that lives in your bones. Let memory rise up from the body of your being.

Honoring Ancestral Memory {Ritual}

Rosemary’s magic lies in her scent and the volatile oil hidden in her leaves. Science has affirmed that the smell of Rosemary’s essential oil enhances memory. Here’s how it works; When you inhale Rosemary, her vaporous oils cross through the mucous membranes in your nose and enter your bloodstream. Recall is significantly improved with Rosemary flowing in your veins.

You can get a good whiff of rosemary by crushing fresh leaves between your fingers or by rubbing a drop of rosemary essential oil between your palms. Then hold your hands over your nose and inhale for a few minutes. Notice how you feel.

Remembering Your Lineage

Connect with your ancestral past through freewriting. Her’s how: Grab a notebook and set a timer for 10 minutes. Below is a prompt to start your writing. After you read it, begin writing and don’t stop until your timer goes off.

I can almost guarantee that you’ll feel silly or lost or confused for at least the first 3 minutes. You’ll feel like you are making things up, or that you don’t know what to write. Keep writing. At a certain point, your ego will step aside and that is when the magic happens.

Hee’s your writing prompt: Dear {name of ancestor}, I’m working to deepen my ancestral ties. Is there anything you’d like to share with me? Now start writing, answering in the voice of your ancestor.

You Are Made Of Memories {Refection}

Rosemary whispers the memories of this lifetime, but she also reminds us of the kitchens of generations past and the scent of camphor mixing with sea air. Our DNA has traveled through millennia. When we think of memory, we focus on the people we ourselves have known – grandparents, great-aunts, cousins twice removed. Our thoughts tend to be based on personalities, experiences, likes or dislikes. Rosemary asks us to travel beyond those associations to feel for the memory that lives in the twisting threads of our chromosomes. This is what it means to honor our ancestors and to be rooted in our own history.

What if your bones are ancient bedrock and your laugh the wild wind? What if you are not only an individual but the present incarnation in a long lineage?

Rosemary Oil; Benefits of Therapeutic Use

Rosemary is a fragrant herb that is native to the Mediterranean and receives its name from the Latin words “ros” (dew) and “marinus” (sea), which means “dew of the Sea.” It also grows in England, Mexico, the USA, and northern Africa, namely in Morocco. Known for its distinctive fragrance that is characterized by an energizing, evergreen, citrus-like, herbaceous scent, Rosemary Essential Oil is derived from the aromatic herb Rosmarinus Officinalis, a plant belonging to the Mint family, which includes Basil, Lavender, Myrtle, and Sage. Its appearance, too, is similar to Lavender with flat pine needles that have a light trace of silver.

Historically, Rosemary was considered sacred by the ancient Greeks, Egyptians, Hebrews, and Romans, and it was used for numerous purposes. The Greeks wore Rosemary garlands around their heads while studying, as it was believed to improve memory, and both the Greeks and the Romans used Rosemary in almost all festivals and religious ceremonies, including weddings, as a reminder of life and death. In the Mediterranean, Rosemary leaves and Rosemary Oil was popularly used for culinary preparation purposes, while in Egypt the plant, as well as its extracts, were used for incense. In the Middle Ages, Rosemary was believed to be able to ward off evil spirits and to prevent the onset of the bubonic plague. With this belief, Rosemary branches were commonly strewn across floors and left in doorways to keep the disease at bay. Rosemary was also an ingredient in “Four Thieves Vinegar,” a concoction that was infused with herbs and spices and used by grave robbers to protect themselves against the plague. A symbol of remembrance, Rosemary was also tossed into graves as a promise that loved ones who passed away would not be forgotten.

It was used throughout the civilizations in cosmetics for its antiseptic, anti-microbial, anti-inflammatory, and anti-oxidant properties and in medical care for its health benefits. Rosemary had even become a favorite alternative herbal medicine for the German-Swiss physician, philosopher, and botanist Paracelsus, who promoted its healing properties, including its ability to strengthen the body and to heal organs such as the brain, heart, and liver. Despite being unaware of the concept of germs, people of the 16th century used Rosemary as incense or as massage balms and oils to eliminate harmful bacteria, especially in the rooms of those suffering from illness. For thousands of years, folk medicine has also used Rosemary for its ability to improve memory, soothe digestive issues, and relieve aching muscles.

Rosemary Essential Oil’s chemical composition consists of the following main constituents: α -Pinene, Camphor, 1,8-Cineol, Camphene, Limonene, and Linalool.

α -Pinene is known to exhibit the following activity:

Anti-inflammatory

Anti-septic

Expectorant

Bronchodilator

Camphor

Cough suppressant

Decongestant

Febrifuge

Anesthetic

Antimicrobial

Anti-inflammatory

1,8-Cineol

Analgesic

Anti-bacterial

Anti-fungal

Anti-inflammatory

Anti-spasmodic

Anti-viral

Cough suppressant

Camphene

Anti-oxidant

Soothing

Anti-inflammatory

Limonene

Nervous system stimulant

Psychostimulant

Mood-balancing

Appetite-suppressant

Detoxifying

Linalool

Sedative

Anti-inflammatory

Anti-anxiety

Analgesic

Used in aromatherapy, Rosemary Oil helps reduce stress levels and nervous tension, boost mental activity, encourage clarity and insight, relieve fatigue, and support respiratory function. It is used to improve alertness, eliminate negative moods, and increase the retention of information by enhancing concentration. The scent of Rosemary Essential Oil stimulates the appetite and is also known to reduce the level of harmful stress hormones that are released when involved in intense experiences. Inhaling Rosemary Oil boosts the immune system by stimulating internal anti-oxidant activity, which in turn fights ailments caused by free radicals, and it relieves throat and nasal congestion by clearing the respiratory tract.

Diluted and used topically, Rosemary Essential Oil is known to stimulate hair growth, reduce pain, soothe inflammation, eliminate headaches, strengthen the immune system, and condition hair to make it look and feel healthy. Used in a massage, Rosemary Oil’s detoxifying properties can facilitate healthy digestion, relieve flatulence, bloating and cramps, and relieve constipation. Through massage, this oil stimulates circulation, which allows the body to better absorb nutrients from food. In cosmetics for hair care, Rosemary Essential Oil’s tonic properties stimulate hair follicles to lengthen and strengthen hair while slowing the graying of hair, preventing hair loss, and moisturizing dry scalp to relieve dandruff. Traditionally, Rosemary Oil combined with Olive Oil in a hot oil hair treatment has been known to darken and strengthen hair. The anti-microbial, antiseptic, astringent, antioxidant, and tonic properties of this oil make it a beneficial additive in skincare products that are meant to soothe or even treat dry or oily skin, eczema, inflammation, and acne. Effective for all skin types, this rejuvenating oil can be added to soaps, face washes, face masks, toners, and creams to achieve firm yet hydrated skin that appears to have a healthy glow that is free of unwanted marks.

Rosemary Essential Oil’s refreshing and energizing aroma can be diluted with water and used in natural homemade room fresheners to eliminate unpleasant odors from the environment as well as from objects. When added to recipes for homemade scented candles, it can work the same way to freshen the scent of a room.

COSMETIC: Stimulant, Analgesic, Anti-inflammatory, Antiseptic, Anti-fungal, Anti-bacterial, Astringent, Disinfectant, Antioxidant.

ODOROUS: Anti-stress, Cognition-enhancement, Psycho-stimulant, Stimulant, Decongestant.

MEDICINAL: Anti-bacterial, Anti-fungal, Detoxifying, Analgesic, Anti-inflammatory, Carminative, Laxative, Decongestant, Antiseptic, Disinfectant, Antiseptic, Anti-nociceptive.

CULTIVATING AND HARVESTING QUALITY ROSEMARY OIL

Rosemary is a perennial bush that often grows on the sea cliffs of Spain, France, Greece, and Italy. The leaves of the aromatic Rosemary bush have a high oil concentration, and it is part of an aromatic family of herbs, which also includes Lavender, Basil, Mint, and Oregano to name a few.

Rosemary is a hardy plant that can withstand frost, but it also loves the sun and thrives in dry climates where the temperature is between 20ᵒ-25ᵒ Celsius (68ᵒ-77ᵒ Fahrenheit) and does not drop below -17ᵒ Celsius (0ᵒ Fahrenheit). Though Rosemary can grow in a small pot inside a home, when grown outside, the Rosemary bush can reach a height of approximately 5 ft. Due to its adaptability to various ecological conditions, Rosemary plants can vary in appearance in terms of their colors, the sizes of their flowers, and the aromas of their essential oils. The Rosemary plant requires adequate water drainage, as it will not grow well if it is over-irrigated or in soils with high clay content, thus it can grow in the earth that ranges in soil type from sandy to clay loam soil as long as it has a pH range of 5,5 to 8,0.

The upper side of Rosemary leaves are dark and the undersides are pale and covered in thick hairs. The tips of the leaves begin to sprout small, tubular pale- to deep-blue flowers, which continue to bloom in the summer. Rosemary Essential Oil of the most superior quality is obtained from the flowering tops of the plant, although oils can also be obtained from the stems and leaves before the plant begins to flower. Rosemary fields are usually harvested once or twice a year, depending on the geographical region of cultivation. Harvesting is most often done mechanically, which allows more frequent cutting due to higher yields from rapid regrowth.

Before distillation, the leaves are dried either naturally by the heat of the sun or by using driers. Drying the leaves in the sun results in poor quality leaves for producing oils. The ideal drying method involves the use of a forced air-flow drier, which results in better quality leaves. After the product is dried, the leaves are further processed to have the stems removed. They are sieved to remove dirt.

HOW IS ROSEMARY OIL EXTRACTED?

Rosemary Essential Oil is most commonly extracted through the steam distillation of the plant’s flowering tops and leaves. After distillation, the oil has a watery viscosity and can be colorless or pale yellow. It’s the powerful and refreshing smell is herbaceous and similar to mint with an undertone that is characterized as woody and balsamic.

USES OF ROSEMARY OIL

The uses of Rosemary Essential Oil are abundant, ranging from medicinal and odorous to cosmetic. Its many forms include oils, gels, lotions, soaps, shampoos, and sprays, to name a few suggestions for homemade products.

Used in aromatherapy, the woody, evergreen scent of Rosemary can promote relaxation and boost alertness as well as brain function, thereby improving memory. To relieve stress while studying and maintain concentration, diffuse Rosemary Essential Oil in the room for a maximum of 30 minutes.

Diluted with a carrier oil and used topically, Rosemary Essential Oil’s detoxifying and anesthetic properties can boost immunity by recharging the body’s detoxification system. By diluting Rosemary Oil in a carrier oil such as Fractionated Coconut Oil and massaging it into the lymph nodes, the body will be stimulated to more rapidly eliminate waste and to soothe digestive ailments. Its analgesic and anti-inflammatory properties make it an ideal essential oil for relieving muscle aches and pains. For a massage oil that reduces pain, blend Rosemary Oil with Peppermint Oil and dilute the blend in Coconut Oil then rub on tender muscles and aching joints.

Rosemary Essential Oil’s anti-viral, anti-microbial, and antiseptic properties make it a natural homemade multi-purpose cleaning spray to cleanse indoor environments and eliminate harmful bacteria therein. A dilution of Rosemary Oil in distilled white vinegar and water makes a spray cleaner that is suitable to wipe down surfaces like countertops.

A GUIDE TO ROSEMARY OIL VARIETIES & THEIR BENEFITS

ROSEMARY VARIETY & BOTANICAL NAME COUNTRY OF ORIGIN BENEFITS OF OIL Rosemary (Morocco) Essential Oil

Rosmarinus Officinalis

Found in:

Morocco

Believed to:

soothe inflammation

strengthen the body

eliminate harmful bacteria

Rosemary Essential Oil (Spanish)

Rosmarinus Officinalis

Found in:

Spain

Believed to:

improve memory

soothe digestive issues

relieve aching muscles

Rosemary Organic Essential Oil

Rosmarinus officinalis

Found in:

Spain

Believed to:

relieve nasal congestion

reduce fever

relieve muscle and joint pain

CONTRAINDICATIONS FOR ROSEMARY OIL

As per NAHA guidelines, we do not recommend the ingestion of essential oils. It is imperative to consult a medical practitioner before using Rosemary Essential Oil for therapeutic purposes. Pregnant and nursing women and those taking prescription drugs are especially advised not to use Rosemary Essential Oil without the medical advice of a physician. The oil may have a negative effect on the fetus and potentially lead to miscarriage. Rosemary Essential Oil should always be stored in an area that is inaccessible to children, especially those under the age of 7. Those with high blood pressure should avoid using this oil, as it may further elevate blood pressure.

When applied topically, Rosemary Essential Oil should be used in dilution – a carrier oil such as Almond, Coconut, Jojoba, Olive, or Hemp is recommended – and in small amounts, as using the oil directly or in high concentrations can potentially cause skin irritation. A skin test is recommended prior to use. This can be done by diluting the essential oil in a carrier oil and applying a small amount to a small area of skin that is not sensitive. Rosemary Oil must never be used near the eyes, inner nose, and ears, or on any other particularly sensitive areas of skin.

ROSEMARY ESSENCE…

Rosemary receives its name from the Latin term “Dew of the Sea,” as it is native to the sea cliffs of the Mediterranean region

Rosemary belongs to an aromatic family of herbs that includes Basil, Lavender, Myrtle, and Sage.

Rosemary was considered sacred by ancient Greeks, Egyptians, Hebrews, and Romans, who used it to improve memory, incense, protection, and as a reminder of the life and death cycle, among other uses.

Rosemary Essential Oil of the most superior quality is obtained from the flowering tops of the plant.

Rosemary Essential Oil is best known for its stimulating, soothing, and pain-relieving properties.

Rosemary, “Remember Me” The Illustrated Herbiary Collectible Box Set: Guidance and Rituals from 36 Bewitching Botanicals; Includes Hardcover Book, Deluxe Oracle Card Set, and Carrying Pouch (Wild Wisdom)

[spazzbunn]

Sirens In The Forest

 The sun was starting to come down with dusk starting to appear. I had gotten a late call about some missing hiker. Oddly enough they never gave me a name for the person. Saying that it is a white male in his early 20s with dark brown hair and a scruffy beard. Apparently they were able to see through security cameras that he walked into the Pine Ridge Hiking Trail. We had cameras around incase of any suspicious activities like with arsonists, drug dealers, punks, you name it. The oddest part was the rangers back at the base said they never saw him walking back. The trail has no end. You would have to go out the way you came in. Pretty much everyone knew that around these parts. So we either had someone that was very new to these woods here or he was from another state.I was the one they called since I was the closest to the Trail. So I took my truck and went over to the gate. I parked close to it as I took my keys with me and got out of it. I had no need of locking the doors. Plus I had nothing worth stealing in the car so it would be dumb to try to steal a forest rangers car. I walked forward and I hopped over it. This was more of a barricade to stop any cars from driving. So you had to duck under or hop over it. It was all we could do for now. The budget was tight after all. So me and my other rangers called them gates.With dusk approaching, I had to bring my flashlight and turn it on before I could walk down to the trail. I only brought the flashlight besides a flask and a pack of crackers since I had no need for anything. I didn’t need no gun since I had the knowledge of the animals by heart. It was better to be smart and not cause trouble to them. Especially the bears. Although to add, bears seemed to be less around now that I think about it.Usually we get reports of bears doing the ‘Yogi Bear’ tactic of them stealing food from people’s picnics and scratching and knocking down the signs for the Pine Ridge Hiking Trail and other Trails as well. But something got them spooked. Mainly because I never saw a bear here. Usually when I do, I see a dead one. Gruesome as all hell, but bears do fight after all, and they gotta eat for their cubs. I walked down and followed the trail as he swished my light back and forth slowly to keep track of anything that was moving. Any sign of any animal. Or a person hopefully. I wanted to get home soon and have dinner with my family. I kept forward as I then notice a few steps away was a backpack. A blue canvas backpack with straps being of a light leather color to it. Clearly odd but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. With how rarely people come here during the Spring season, there is no worry of someone taking your bag so obviously, he must have set up a camp close by. People tend to camp on trails like this. Obviously he must have been new to this and most likely someone that knows of our place. I looked into the backpack. Nothing but a map, some water bottles, and a pack of peanut butter crackers. Nothing appeared off. Maybe this was just a hiker and must be either those “influencers” or a nature loving fella. I walked to the left side which continued the trail while I left the backpack where it was. It felt like the barely lively sun was starting to make the scenery dark so my flashlight was working somewhat more efficiently. Yet I also had that feeling of eyes looking at me. Granted, I always remember it is the animals of skunks, squirrels, raccoons that tend to stare at me. The trees were lively. The wind slightly blowing to cause some of them to move their branches full of green leaves, so I had no worry of anyone watching me. Only the animals. I kept going as far away I started to pick up the sight of something. It looked big. It looked messy. I swallowed my fear away as I pretty much was seeing something that looks of a bear having to have had a person for dinner. I kept going though. I had to be sure. As I did, the mess appears to seem too odd. A lot of blood. Yet with big four dashes on the ground. Maybe five. It looked too bloody to tell. I could handle the smell of metallic thanks to my odd young years of sniffing coins in my hands. Yet I felt sick. This wasn’t fresh either. This had been days. When was the last time someone came here? Before I could even think of a theory in the corner of my eye was a bush by my left. It had a torn cloth of a blue shirt stick on its tiny branches. Maybe light-ish blue or aqua. I got no idea. But that made me feel wary of my surroundings. Something felt really off now.The reason was because of the fact that the person I was looking for had a light gray hoodie with his shirt looking green. This was somebody else. Yet again they never did say anything about other people going in. Just this one person who could be a killer. With my determination to see if this was just some prank by fellow kids and cuff them for trying to scare me, I set foot and continued on. I know it had to be a joke. I mean it made sense. It was dark, a missing unknown person, blood stained mess. Yet in my head, I was swimming with thoughts. No one could ever make fake blood looking strong like that. The scratch marks even were deep. No normal shovel or knife could make lines like those. But my mind also was remembering something I heard about.There were reports of missing people in the woods. We haven’t heard of anything happening to our Trails, yet we might have a few people slipping through our cameras or our rangers seem unfit for keeping a watch on things. People rarely come to this one since it is just short with the end being a bunch of trees blocking the way. We never did get the chance, either due to budget or situations that halt us from removing the trees in winter to make a longer trail for people. I kept going until I saw another mess on the dirt wall that the rangers and I made to let people stay on the path and know where they are going.It looked as if it was the same blood smear with claws. The flashlight showed that it was true. In fact the sickening smell of old dried blood was hitting my nose again. The same dashes. The same smell. It looked disturbing to me. Hell, I even felt eyes staring at me. Making me want to keep going as if I was to turn around I would be killed. Something wanted me to keep going. I took a breath and I walked forward with my body starting to shake out of fear. I called to the woods. To see if anyone was here. I could handle a damn killer, I just didn’t want to be alone in these woods. Feeling the eyes on me. Watching my every move. I swear I heard twigs breaking yet I moved on. I blamed it on raccoons, yet my arm was ready to swing on the killer and have my flashlight meet his skull.I turned right and as if I was being messed with I saw another bloody mess. This was was longer and on the ground. Walking closer, I saw the same number of dashes. More longer though. Oddly, it looked as if it was leading me somewhere. I gulped to swallow my worries and fear away. Whoever wanted me to keep going, I gladly accepted their invitation and walked. I felt the feeling of being watched again. I swing my flashlight to shine the light and I was met with just the wooden oak of the trees. It felt like it was getting darker by a couple of steps. It could have been my sanity toying with me. Or maybe my gut, heart, and brain in union was telling the truth. That someone or something was out in the woods stalking me. I heard nothing. I shouted out again to the only response was the wind blowing and leaves rustling. It felt odd. It felt scary. To be alone in these woods now. I usually am around at day time but never when it was close to night. My neck hairs on the back side were up and I never felt more alert. I walked at a normal pace. I was near the “dead end trees” as I nicknamed them. No way someone would go through there. Especially with bears and poisonous snakes roaming around. My light seems brighter. Either due to the strange batteries or how the slowly rising night was taking away every drop of sunlight it had left. I saw the trees. Yet again, my sight saw something not an average person sees. The wood on a couple of trees looked darkly red. As I marched forward with every bit of courage in me, I saw clear as day what the color was. Blood. So much blood. On the trees and on the ground. This was something non-human. Infact, the blood mess on the ground had the dashes again. I knew slowly but surely that no human could do a work like this. I walked closer to be hit with the strong scent of the blood. But yet it smelt worse. Like the blood was rotten. Like raw meat on a hot summer sun. I almost puked from that stench alone. But I aimed my flashlight and eyes down on the ground. There I saw it. A torn apart broken in pieces human body. Some of its skin was ripped off, barely the veins show which were not covered in blood. Barely a broken torn apart arm and scratched up in half leg as all I could see of the limbs. My stomach was turning inside out and flipping upside down. I have seen dead animals torn apart. But that was nature. This wasn’t nature. Not something God would allow. This was unholy work. For a non-human being. I looked to the left side of the unknown torn apart person since it seemed naked with all clothing just ripped apart and bloody. A piece of a light gray cloth. This was the guy. The poor bastard was chased by something. And this was his fate. His guts didn’t even seem there. Like it was all gone. No liver or intenses. Not even a god damn stomach. I had to go. I had to head back to the station.As my body was ready to turn as I was going to make a book to the truck, I heard a noise that slowly was starting to grow in sheer loudness and terror. The sound of a static noise. Like a television acting up when the satellite was out. I turned slowly and pointed my flashlight towards it. All that I was meeting with, in God’s honest truth, was something I couldn't even describe. It was tall. Like, really tall. About the size of a telephone pole. Its body looked like rusted metal. Skinny and dried up like it was mummified. Skinny long arms that were almost as long as its body. Everything looked so off. Its head was the oddest part of this bizarre mass of dehydrated flesh. It was of a siren. Two speakers on the pole that looked to be connected to the flesh and even the veins of this thing. It was still emitting the loud static sound at me. My flashlight looked over at the tilted siren as the speaker was facing me. Pure white human teeth. This was not Satan's work.No God and no Devil would ever make something like that. This was a true monster. A creature with no reason to live. Just to have more reasons of fear. It stopped its loud screeching and started to emit a new sound. The sound of the speakers started to make the sound of a warning weather alert. It started walking towards me in big steps. With my ears covered to prevent hearing damage, I quickly started to run in the right side to avoid its skinny hands. I ran with my tired feet sore and aching as I just kept going. The flashlight was still in my hands, covering my one ear as it was cold and metal as I felt the ground shaking as the creature was slowly but in big steps, catching on to me.My heart, my mind, my everything. It was all rushing in union. But only because as I was running down the path I started to remember that haunting sound. Months ago we heard this sound before. Us rangers weren’t so focused on it. Mainly due to how we knew of an old siren from so many years ago that used to be for signaling big tornados or hurricanes. It would quickly die off every thirty minutes or an hour before it would start up so months later. The pieces were hitting my face like hard bricks. We rarely have people come over here in this trail. Maybe one or two in those few months. We then hear that sound. This thing has been in the forest for an unknown amount of time. Using that deathly howl as a way to block the screaming of its victims. To not have anyone else intervene with it. I looked back and it still was taking big steps to try to get me. I was faster, but it still wouldn’t give up. It started to lower the volume of the alert as I turned my head forward and kept running. I was close to the truck. I could see the backpack from far away now. That is when the new sounds started to startle me. It was one of the most oddest things I ever heard. It started to speak. Not in basic human function. But static like. I couldn’t remember much due to my heavy breathing and my heart pounding but it was shouting words at me. “Don’t” and “Come”. The words were different voices. Like it had no real voice. It either was from radio stations that it was able to pick up and understand or it listened to the victims to gather more information to understand human speech.I was close. I was so damn close. It kept spewing out words. “Do not go”. It wanted to eat me. To tear me apart and slurp up my guts like spaghetti. “Stay here”. I wasn’t going to stay and die. I had to live. I ran past the backpack as I was closer to my truck. I looked back to see it was far behind but still catching up to me. This thing would never stop. I run harder as I see the gate. In one big jump, I was able to hop over the metal gate and be right next to the car door. I opened it in such speed and force as I threw my flashlight and almost myself in. I slam the door and reached into my jacket pocket to pull out the key. I grab and quickly slide the metal key into the ignition and turned it to start the engine. Within seconds I heard the car purring and in a mere couple of seconds I put my foot down on the gas pedal and my car went forward. I drove without ever looking back. I can still hear those voices. That loud alarm. That horrific creature. I still can see it. Can hear it. The back of my brain will always have me remember that monster. Something that will never go away as the years pass. It will haunt me forever in my broken and terrified mind. (Case #19-9-18-5-14) Report: Forest Ranger having to be in his older 30s rushed into police station at around 10:13 PM. Acting hysterical with his body shaking and looking out of the windows most of the time as officers got him to calm down. Saying a creature in the woods had chased him. Tall as a telephone pole with the head being of a siren. After roughly thirty minutes, we drove him off to his home where he exclaimed he would do an interview tomorrow for the sake of the ‘Missing People’ (See Case #8-5-1-4 for more detail) At around 10:30 AM he came down to be interviewed to give more information of what he witnessed yesterday evening (See the ‘Witness Report’ from the Forest Ranger). After about a two hour interview with the Forest Ranger we were able to get him to show us ‘Pine Ridge Hiking Trail’. He did show some hesitation until we were able to persuade him by offering more officers to the scene. He stated ‘With bigger numbers, the creature might just stay far away.” At the crime scene at the ‘Pine Ridge Hiking Trail’ several officers were able to find the clues and pieces told from the Forest Ranger’s story. We took the blood samples of the blood we discovered and some tissue samples from the torn apart body the Forest Ranger had discovered yesterday. A day later at around 1:54 PM the forensic lab was able to confirm that the blood samples and tissue samples do belong to the people in the  ‘Missing People’  case, but also to the person the Forest Ranger was looking for. ( See the Update for Case #8-5-1-4 to see the listed names.) The Forest Ranger was able to provide multiple alibis: - Video surveillance with a timestamp of when the hiker had appeared and seemed to be missing and the time the Forest Ranger had appeared after getting contacted by another Forest Ranger. - Other Forest Rangers were able to show proof as they had recorded audio of him speaking into their radio dispatch of the report of the creature and to not let anyone near the woods. -Gargled audio from the video camera planted by the “Pine Ridge Hiking Trail” sign of the sound of a weather alert system going off as the Forest Ranger had said in the interview. -Pieces of the cloth and of the hoodie showed no DNA of the Forest Ranger’s finger prints. We do know the backpack has the fingerprints of the Forest Ranger, but since he had admitted in the interview he did opened and looked into the bag to see if the hiker had planned to camp out the trail, there is nothing more to further add him as a suspect. -The Forest Ranger was submitted a urine test before he was sent home yesterday night to see if he was under the influence of drugs. The urine had shown that he had no drugs in his system. -The Forest Ranger was also able to give us his medical records to prove to us that he was not acting crazy nor has any mental problems. His medical records show of a clean bill of health which was last checked several days ago. Due to the witnesses and alibi’s, we had to remove the Forest Ranger off the suspect list for now. (Additional Note #1: The blood from the Forensic Lab appeared to be weeks old. The only type of somewhat fresh blood was from the hiker the Forest Ranger was sent to find) (Additional Note #2: The Forest Ranger had exclaimed that he does not want his name to be mentioned nor said in either news coverage or reports. Due to the evidence showing that he was not the culprit of the crime scene and because of how well known he is in town we had respected his command and kept his identity private until further evidence list him as a main suspect.) (Additional Note#3: During the time at the crime scene many officers had reported hearing a faint ‘white noise’ coming from the woods. Several officers checked but saw nothing that could be making the noise. The Forest Ranger explained after the officers and detectives finished up the crime scene that the creature could most likely be asleep.  White Noise is a type of sound that is combined with different sound frequencies together. It is known to help people sleep.)

(Credits)

-Siren Head was created and belongs to Trevor Henderson  https://twitter.com/slimyswampghost Also on Tumblr @slimyswampghost -This story was based on the Siren Head short game  https://modus-interactive.itch.io/siren-head

[drferox]

What are some differences between cheap wet cat food and more expensive wet cat food?

Well, make yourself a cup of tea and prepare for a long read, because there are lots of myths about nutrition. I should start first and foremost by saying that I am not going to tell anyone what to feed their cat, or dog, unless that animal is a patient of mine. I’m only going to tell you what to consider.

The first one is that lots and lots of laypeople sites will say ‘meat should be the first ingredient’ often followed by ‘no nasty byproducts’ and this is not strictly the case. Cat food must have meat in it, but it doesn’t strictly have to be the first ingredient, especially if it uses multiple meat sources.

What I want to know about any given wet cat food is this:

Is it a ‘guaranteed analysis’ or a ‘typical analysis’. A guaranteed analysis is superior.

How much of it is water, indicated by ‘Moisture percentage’

How much is protein, and is that figure ‘as fed’ or ‘as dry matter’.

How much is fat, and is that figure ‘as fed’ or ‘as dry matter’.

Macro and micronutrients are also important, especially taurine and in growing cats, but that information is often unreasonably difficult to find outside of the premium diets.

This is a large part of the reason, incidentally, that vets and a profession often recommend a couple of brands over other. Getting all the information I require to confidently recommend a diet is easy for Hills, Royal Canin, Advance, etc but nearly impossible without phoning and begging any of the supermarket brands. Honestly, if a brand of food wants me to be able to honestly recommend it, it needs to provide its nutritional information in an easily accessible manner. Otherwise you have to go to the store to start getting any nutritional info, as I did.

Yeah, I went to the supermarket and started snapping pics of all the nutritional information available on the labels of various wet food brands and looked like a crazy lady doing so. Here are the unedited label photos, on another post for neatness.

Some points to note:

Some brands have a guaranteed analysis, which is more reliable and suggests better quality than a typical analysis

Some packets will clearly state they are compliant with AAFCO (The Association of American Feed Control) recommendations, even here in Australia.

Then others, like Smitten, will subtly say ‘Complementary food only’, which means you cannot guarantee or expect a cat fed that food alone to remain healthy for a year. It’s not well marked.

Only one of them offered any indication of the Moisture Content, which is what you need to make sure you’re comparing apples with apples.

The moisture content is important, because if you look at those labels as-is you will see all of these diets only offer 9% to 13% protein. For a species that requires a high protein diet, that doesn’t sound like a whole lot, but that’s because you’re not taking the water into account.

To simplify, it’s not unreasonable to consider food as being made up of only four things: protein, fat, carbohydrates or water.

All of these diets list their fat and protein, but only Fancy Feast Originals listed its moisture percentage, and once you know the percentage of three components, you can use simple maths to figure out the fourth. Fancy Feast isn’t the most expensive, nor is it the cheapest, it’s middle of the range.

But why are there always carbohydrates in my cat food? Because there’s always carbohydrates in meat. Glycogen is the most common, it’s the energy storage molecule in muscle and liver that makes it taste good, and incidentally the cat uses the same enzymes to digest it as they do starch. This is probably why they often like starchy things. Cats can and do digest carbohydrates, beware of any source that claims they do not.

So out of the canned foods at my supermarket, you’d think they all sound pretty similar with their protein ranging from 9-13% and their fat from 1.5-5.5%. But you have no way to compare them without knowing the moisture content.

If one diet is 9% protein, 2% fat and 80% moisture, then it’s 9% carbohydrate. If it’s 9% protein, 2% fat and 70% moisture, then it’s 19% carbohydrate.

Unfortunately, finding the moisture content of many of these diets is difficult. However, it’s not unreasonable to assume that cheap wet food contains a higher moisture content, as it’s usually the case. Water is cheap.

If you can get the moisture content, you can calculate the percentage of fat/protein or carbohydrate as a Dry Matter Percentage (what’s left after removing the water). It’s simply the nutrient % / (100- moisture %)

For a normal cat, we’re looking for a protein level that’s at least 25-35% of the dry matter, and fat that’s 10-30% of the dry matter, depending on its digestibility.

For reference, the Fancy Feast Originals can in this sample had 55% protein and 10% fat by dry matter, which is more than the minimum amount of protein, but that’s perfectly alright for a normal cat.

If you compare that to the ‘Gourmet Delight’ Natural Grain Free diet, you have to guess the moisture percentage. If you guess moisture at 80%, then by dry matter you have 45% protein  7.5% fat and more carbohydrates than the Fancy Feast had. If you guess only 70% moisture, and most canned foods are between 70-80%, then those numbers start to look even worse.

The fancy ‘Natural’ and ‘Grain free’ means absolutely nothing for the cats.

(The ‘natural, grain free’ dies even specifies ‘no nasty byproducts’ on the tin and the website is full of dumbed-down myths to sell you your food. Also check out the people listed as answering their FAQs, I can’t even tell whether they’re vets or not. No ‘Dr’ or qualification, and not easy to Google.)

You would think cheap cat food is going to be poorer quality than expensive cat food, but especially in the case of the Grain Free trend, it’s not always the case. This is because if something is more expensive, it is often perceived as better by consumers, even if it is really not, so the manufacturer can hike the price up a bit freely

So after you’ve decided whether the diet has enough protein, enough fat, and meets suitable nutritional guidelines like AAFCO, then you look at what the ingredients actually are. Most meats are going to be around 90% digestible and usable by the cats, while vegetable proteins are only 40-50% useful at all. So if the diet has a lot of high protein vegetables, that protein percentage may be artificially elevated and not utilized well by the cat’s metabolism.

I’m not going to talk about grain free versus not, because the vast majority of the time it makes no difference to the cat and is simply a personal choice on the part of the human feeding it.

Lastly, look at how much you need to feed to maintain a body weight. If the food doesn’t tell you the moisture percentage, and doesn’t tell you the calorie content, it should at the very least have a feeding guide. If you need to feed twice as many packets of one food to maintain weight as another, then it’s probably either lower quality, higher fiber or higher moisture than another.

That said, you might want a lower calorie food or a higher moisture food to help a cat feel full while losing weight, or to improve stool quality. That’s ok, pick something that suits your purpose.

With me all the way to the end? Well done. Crack out a biscuit to have with your tea.

TL:DR:

You wont find all the nutritional info you need on the packet

Check the protein and fat levels

Check whether it’s a complete diet, (eg AAFCO standard) or a ‘Complementary food’

Make sure it’s got meat/fish

And this rather long post is the simplest I can make cat wet food for you.

(Oh, and if you have something to add to the conversation, please do so in a reply or reblog. Random anecdotes sent to the ask box will not be published to keep the topic all in one place)

[bamby0304]

The Hart II: Highway

Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best… hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?

Bamby’s Masterlist

The Hart Masterlist

The Hart II: Highway Masterlist

Part Twenty-Eight: Chasing Immortality

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Medical stuff.

Bamby

EPOV

I was willing to do whatever it took to save Dean. So was Sam. The fact the three of us were standing in an abandoned cabin, looking at a demon we'd caught, tied up and locked in a devil's trap so we could torture him... honestly it meant nothing to me. As long as Dean was saved, I didn't care.

Dean threw some holy water on to the demon who then screamed and thrashed around, the pain waking him from his unconsciousness.

"You ready to talk?" Dean snarled.

"I don't know. I don't know anything!"

Dean grinned, looking over to Sam and I. "Oh, you hear that? He doesn't know anything."

Sam smirked, nodding. "Yeah, I heard."

"I'm telling you the truth," the demon insisted.

"Oh, you are? My God, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you." Stepping forward, Dean forced more holy water down the demon's throat. "I'm gonna ask you one last time... who holds my contract?!"

The demon fell silent for a moment, his head hanging. As he slowly began to look up at us, he revealed his black eyes and wide smile. "Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over."

Dean leaned closer to him, holding back his anger. "I want a name. Or else-"

"Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."

Pulling back, Dean gave me a simple nod. Turning my attention to the demon, I began to recite an exorcism.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..."

"How does that feel?" Dean circled the demon. "Does that feel good?"

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio..."

Groaning, the demon forced words out through gritted teeth. "Go ahead. Send me back to hell. 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you... with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester."

I paused, my eyes wide as I looked to Dean. We were close, family, friends... lovers. He meant a lot to me. The idea of anything bad happening to him… I couldn't bare it.

Moving closer to me, Dean pressed a kiss to my temple. "Send him some place he can't hurt anyone else."

Nodding, I took a shaky breath as I continued with the exorcism.

"Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te..."

DPOV

I walked up to Liz as she stood on the porch of the abandoned cabin we were squatting in. She was waiting for me, her arms folded over her chest, hands tucked under her arms as she hugged her dark red leather jacket to herself.

Before I could even stop walking, she spoke up, "I'm scared we're gonna lose you."

I had already been aware of that. As each day went by she changed. She was still the strong and capable woman we knew her to be, but at the same time she was becoming more fearful. As if her worry for me was taking control of the rest of her.

Sighing, I stepped up to her, unfolding her arms before sliding my hands down to her waist. "You're not gonna-"

She cut me off, rolling her eyes and pulling away. "Don't bullshit me, Dean. Unless you're a psychic, and you just forgot to mention it, don't try to predict the future."

"Aren't you doing the same?" I countered.

"No." She shook her head. "I'm preparing myself for the worst. Part of me hopes for the best, but I'm not setting myself up for disappointment. I'd much rather be happily surprised than heartbroken."

Grinning, I stepped closer to her again, my hands grabbing her waist once more as I pulled her to my chest. "Heartbroken?" I pressed a kiss to her neck as my hands moved around to the small of her back.

"Don't play dumb with me, Winchester." She fought against a smile. "We may not be a couple, but you're certainly the closest thing to a boyfriend I've had." Pulling away, she looked up at me with scared and sad eyes "I don't want to lose you… but it feels like I'm going to."

Time was running short. Three weeks was not much, and the closer to my end we got, the worse we were all feeling.

Just being here with Liz, or spending time with my brother, I knew how precious it all was. I knew how much I'd need it if things were to go south- literally. So, for a moment longer, I was going to let us stand there, in the embrace, enjoying it just a little while longer.

EPOV

Walking back into the cabin beside Dean, we just caught the end of Sam's phone call.

"You ran the prints twice? Are you sure? Okay. Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error. Don't I know it. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant." He hung up and turned to us without pausing. "Bury the body?"

Dean gave a sharp nod. "Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks." He walked us over to the table, grabbing and opening a beer before handing it over to me and then grabbing his own. "What was the phone call about?" he asked as we moved to sit on the couch.

"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?"

Dean took a drink of his beer before answering. "'Stripper suffocates dude with thighs'?" he answered, causing me to elbow him in the ribs. "Hey." He turned to me. "What was that for?"

"Pretty sure Sam was talking about the other thing," I told him, a smile on my face as I moved to snuggle into his side. "The guy that walked into the ER and died before anyone could help him. His liver was ripped out or something, right?"

Sam nodded. "I just found out something pretty damn interesting."

"What?" Dean asked, turning to his brother as his free arm moved to drape over my shoulders.

"The dead body was covered in bloody fingerprints, not the victim's."

"Okay, great." Dean shrugged, seeming uninterested. "My man Dave Caruso will be stoked to hear it."

"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."

I sat up, interested. "Really?"

"So, what are we talking? Uh, walking dead?" Dean grinned. "Walking, killing dead?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"Zombies do like the other, other white meat. Huh." Dean took another drink of his beer. "Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"

Sam frowned, giving a short shake of his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been on soul-saving detail for months now. And we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden, you're interested in some hot zombie action?" Dean did have a good point.

Sam shook his head, scoffing. "Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung ho to hunt. I just thought I'd be doing you a favour." He turned to leave.

"Hey, no, no, no, no, no." Dean got to his feet following his brother. "I didn't say I didn't want to do it, okay. I mean obviously I want to hunt some zombies."

I sighed, a grin on my lips. "Looks like we've got a case."

DPOV

The three of us stood in the coroner's lab as he explained the case to us. "Yeah, the rest of the body was intact. The liver was the only organ missing."

"Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any... ah... teeth marks?" I asked.

The corner frowned at each of us as if he thought we were insane. "Can I see your badges?"

"Of course, sure." Sam nodded as we all pulled out our badges to show him.

After taking a moment to look at all our badges, the corner sighed. "Fine. So, you're cops and morons."

"Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart." I insisted.

"The liver was not ripped out," the corner explained as he led us to the body. "It was removed. Surgically." He showed us the stitches. "By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?"

"Of course we did," I lied. "Oh, it was riveting. It was a real page-turner, just delightful."

Raising his eyes brow at me, the corner sighed. "You done?"

"I think so." I gave a sharp nod.

"Please go away."

"Okay." I turned to leave, only to stop as Liz spoke up.

"I just want to apologise on behave of my partner. He's new, and we were told to give him the lead on the case." She smiled charmingly at the corner. "We can't exactly leave without any solid information that might help... so, if you wouldn't mind, could I have a copy of the report. I'd rather get it straight from the brains behind the operation."

My jaw dropped as the corner's face softened. He was eating everything she said, swimming in the look she was giving him as if he hadn't had any female attention for months. But it was when he turned and grabbed a copy of the report without so much as I noise, that's what shocked me the most.

Reaching forward to take the file, Liz's smile grew. "Thank you so much. I really do appreciate it."

...

As we walked down the hall, I noticed Sam grinning to himself.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed. Liz was too charming… I didn't like it.

He shook his head at me. "Nothing." Bullshit. "So, that kind of punches a hole in our zombie theory, huh, that scalpel thing?"

"Yeah, zombie with skills, 'Dr Quinn, medicine zombie'." I chuckled.

"Maybe we're on the wrong track, Dean, looking for hacked-up corpses," Sam suggested.

I frowned slightly, confused. "What should we be looking for?"

"Survivors," Liz answered for him.

Sam nodded, agreeing with her. "This isn't zombie lunch. This is organ theft."

SPOV

"I told the cops all of this yesterday. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

The three of us were standing by the bed of a patient who'd had his kidney stolen. Unlike the other victim, this guy had survived.

"It's just a couple of questions, sir," I assured him.

"Hey, man. I just got my kidney stolen. I'm tired."

"We'll be out of here quick." Dean tried to be gentle as he attempted to persuade the guy. "Don't you want to get the guy?"

The patient turned to him. "Will it get me back my kidney?"

"Look." Lizzie sighed, stepping closer to the man. "I understand that this has been a traumatic experience, and honestly I don't blame you for not wanting to bring up the memories. But there have been more victims. Some people aren't surviving like you did. So if you could give as some information, anything, then maybe we can stop this person."

She was good. I could see the guy actually thinking about it before he gave a sigh and a short nod, letting us know he was willing to cooperate.

I pulled out my pen to write some noted down in my pad I was holding. "So what's the last thing you remember?"

"Feeding my meter. I got jumped from behind... and then I wake up strapped to a table. And then the worst pain you could possibly imagine, only worse. And then I black out again. Thank God. And then I wake up screaming in some no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice."

"Do you remember anything about the surgery? You know, what the guy looked like, any details about the room?" Dean pressed for more.

"Let me think about that." The patient paused for a moment. "Yeah... one thing is coming back to me. You know what I remember? Getting my kidney cut out of my body!" he snapped, clearly done with the questioning.

DPOV

I moved to join Liz and Sam at the table as they did some research. Placing my paper bag in front of me, I reached into it and pulled out my burger, smiling eagerly at it.

"So, I got a theory," Sam started.

"Yeah?" I asked, taking a large bite out of my burger.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I talked to Mr Giggle's doctor. Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk."

I frowned slightly. "That's weird," I noted as Liz reached over and took a bite out of my burger. "Hey!" I pulled it away from her.

She grinned, moving her chair next to me, batting her eyes. "It just looks so good."

"Anyway." Sam tried not to look at us as he failed to hide his smile. "Silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century. It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane." He turned his computer around so I could take a look.

I flicked through the tabs on his screen. "Good times."

"Right, so doctors, they had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots."

Pausing my chewing, I gestured to my burger. "Dude, I'm eating."

But Sam just kept going, "It actually kind of worked because maggots, they eat bad tissue, and they leave good tissue. And get this. When they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots."

"Dude, I'm eating!" I repeated. "Alright, let me get this straight. So, people are getting ganked, right?"

Sam gave a short nod. "Yeah."

"A little 'antiques roadshow' surgery, some organ theft. But why is this all sounding familiar?"

"Because you heard it before." Sam actually looked excited. "When you were a kid... from dad. Doc Benton... real-life doctor, lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So, in 1816, Doc abandons his practice and-"

I cut him off, knowing the rest of the story, "Right, yeah, nobody hears from him for like twenty years, and all of sudden, people start showing up dead."

"Dead or missing an organ or their hand or some other kind of part."

"Cause whatever he was doing was actually working. He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them. But I thought dad hunted him down and took his heart out."

"Yeah, I guess the Doc must have plugged in a new one."

Liz reached for dad's journal that sat on the table. "So, if this guy is still kicking, where do we find him?"

"According to dad's journal, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of freshwater," Sam answered.

I took another bite of my burger before asking, "Why?"

"Because that's where he likes to dump the bile and intestines and faecal matter." He smirked at my disgusted face as I gagged. "Lost your appetite yet?"

Looking down at my burger, I considered it for a moment. My eyes moved from the burger, to Sam and then back, before I shook my head. "Oh baby, I can't stay mad at you." I took a large bite out of it.

EPOV

I had to admit, this was a pretty exciting case. A man turned Frankenstein like monster. Not only was it fascinating, but it was a nice change from our usual activities. Chasing down Bela. Trying to find a way to get Dean out of his contract. Catching and torturing demons for information.

This was actually a little fun.

Standing by the bed with Sam and Dean, we looked down at the map laid out on the blankets in front of us.

Sam pointed to some areas on the map which we'd circled red. "So these are all the cabins. Most of them have been abandoned for years."

"So, what the hell are we waiting for?" Dean asked, seconds before his phone began to ring. Moving to the table, he answered, putting it on speaker. "Bobby."

"Hey. Think I finally got a lead on Bela."

"I'm listening."

"Rufus Turner."

Ah, yes, Rufus Turner. Never met the guy, but heard enough stories. Not all were bad, not all were good. Honestly, he was a good hunter and that's all I cared about.

"Who's that?" Dean asked. "Like a Cleveland steamer?"

"He's a hunter, or he used to be."

"And now?"

"Hermit mostly. Does a little selling on the side. Anyway. I put the word out on Bela months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things."

"And he thinks it's Bela?"

"British accent, went by the name Mina Chandler."

Dean paused, turning to Sam and me. "She's used that before. Well, it's kinda of a sloppy move, isn't it? Getting in contact with one of your old friends."

"Friend?" Bobby scoffed. "Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen years. He's not the Christmas card type. I doubt she knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont."

"Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way."

"One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue."

"Okay." Hanging up, Dean nodded to Sam and me. "Come on."

"What?" Sam frowned. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second."

Dean didn't stop as he moved to grab his jacket and bag. "Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking."

But Sam still didn't do as he was told. "Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case."

"You insane?"

"Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it." Sam had a good point.

"Well, then I'll kill her." Dean shrugged. "Win-win."

Sam sighed. "Dean..."

"Sam. We're going!"

But Sam wasn't having a bar of it. "No."

Dean turned to him, getting more and more worked up by the minute. "Why the hell not?"

"Dean, this… this here. Now. This is what's gonna save you."

Dean shook his head. "What? Chasing some Frankenstein?"

I was about to explain that we had a responsibility to keep going with the case and to stop the guy who was killing and chopping up people to take their organs. But Sam spoke up first, and what he had to say shocked me.

"Chasing immortality," Sam explained, earning startled looks from Dean and I. "Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."

Dean wasn't angry anymore, just confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die, then-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean cut Sam off, stepping closer to his brother. The tension in his body had me stepping back. "Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

"No." When Dean kept looking at Sam, not believing him, Sam sighed, "Look, I was hoping."

"So, the whole zombie thing, it was lying to me?"

"I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."

"No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicy McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a freaking beer. You wanna study him."

"I was just trying to help."

"You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching."

Sam shrugged. "Fine! Then, whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too!"

Dean shook his head, walking back to his bag. "Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."

"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket."

"Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?" He looked to both Sam and me.

I was the one to speak, my voice quiet. "We're staying."

Dean looked to me, shocked once more. "You too?" He shook his head. "No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak."

Sam stood his ground. "You're not gonna let us?"

"No, I'm not gonna let you."

"How are you gonna stop us?" Sam asked, startling Dean again. "Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here."

"I know. But I'm going. So, if you wanna stay," Dean actually looked hurt, avoiding my gaze, "stay." He pulled his bag over his shoulder and started for the door, only to stop when he was next to me. Cupping my face, he turned me so I'd look at him, pressing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. As he pulled away, he sighed and looked over my head at his brother. "Sammy, be careful."

I could hear that Sam had turned to face Dean as he responded, his voice soft. "You too."

There was a moment's pause as Dean looked from Sam to me before he let my cheek go and walked to the door and out of the room, leaving us.

DPOV

It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. I had to keep repeating those three words in my head to reminded myself that I would see Liz and Sam again. Just because they were going after an immortal serial killer, and I was going after the slimy bitch that had stolen the Colt, did not mean any of us were going to die. It wasn't goodbye.

Climbing the porch steps, I came to a stop at a door where a sign hung. It read, 'No solicitors, that means you! No asking for donations. No selling ANYTHING!'. Shaking my head, I lifted my hand and rang the buzzer before knocking on the door.

A noise caught my attention. Looking up, I spotted a camera moving to face me.

"What?" a voice called through the intercom.

"Hi, uh, Rufus?"

"Yeah, even if I am, the question is still the same. What?"

"Uh, I'm Dean Winchester. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's."

"So?"

"You called him this morning."

"So?"

"Uh..." I tried grinning at the camera, but this guy was wearing down my patience. "You told Bobby about a British chick who made contact with you."

"And so?"

"You know where she is?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Could you tell me where I could find her?"

"No."

"Course not," I mumbled to myself before speaking into the telecom again. "Look, Rufus, man-"

The door opened as Rufus- an African American man around Bobby's age- stepped out. "Look, let me point something out to you. You are knocking at my door, so don't 'Look, man' me. I'm not your man."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"All right, let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, Bobby called me, asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff. I called. The end."

"Okay, yeah, if you could just tell me where she is, I mean, that would be great."

"Dean Winchester, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Dean, do I look like I'm here to help you?"

"I'm gonna say no."

"Then get the hell of my property."

"All right, yeah, fair enough. I got one more question for you, though." I reached into my bag that sat on my shoulder. "See, I got this, uh, this bottle of scotch, and... uh, is this considered good?" I asked, pulling out a Johnnie Walker Blue Label out.

Rufus eyed the bottle and then me, before smiling.

Bamby

[werymaxy-blog]

http://www.fotobabble.com/media/list?username=werymaxy

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[loveofyhwh]

November 26: Ezekiel 21–22; Revelation 19; Psalm 119:145–152; Proverbs 28:15–16

New Post has been published on https://loveofyhwh.com/november-26-ezekiel-21-22-revelation-19-psalm-119145-152-proverbs-2815-16/

November 26: Ezekiel 21–22; Revelation 19; Psalm 119:145–152; Proverbs 28:15–16

Old Testament:

Ezekiel 21–22

Ezekiel 21–22 (Listen)

The Lord Has Drawn His Sword

21  The word of the LORD came to me: 2 “Son of man, set your face toward Jerusalem and preach against the sanctuaries.Some Hebrew manuscripts, compare Septuagint, Syriac against their sanctuary‘>1 Prophesy against the land of Israel 3 and say to the land of Israel, Thus says the LORD: Behold, I am against you and will draw my sword from its sheath and will cut off from you both righteous and wicked. 4 Because I will cut off from you both righteous and wicked, therefore my sword shall be drawn from its sheath against all flesh from south to north. 5 And all flesh shall know that I am the LORD. I have drawn my sword from its sheath; it shall not be sheathed again.

6 “As for you, son of man, groan; with breaking heart and bitter grief, groan before their eyes. 7 And when they say to you, ‘Why do you groan?’ you shall say, ‘Because of the news that it is coming. Every heart will melt, and all hands will be feeble; every spirit will faint, and all knees will be weak as water. Behold, it is coming, and it will be fulfilled,’” declares the Lord GOD.

8 And the word of the LORD came to me: 9 “Son of man, prophesy and say, Thus says the Lord, say:

  “A sword, a sword is sharpened     and also polished, 10   sharpened for slaughter,     polished to flash like lightning!

(Or shall we rejoice? You have despised the rod, my son, with everything of wood.)Probable reading; Hebrew The rod of my son despises everything of wood‘>2 11 So the sword is given to be polished, that it may be grasped in the hand. It is sharpened and polished to be given into the hand of the slayer. 12 Cry out and wail, son of man, for it is against my people. It is against all the princes of Israel. They are delivered over to the sword with my people. Strike therefore upon your thigh. 13 For it will not be a testing—what could it do if you despise the rod?”Or For it is a testing; and what if even the rod despises? It shall not be!‘>3 declares the Lord GOD.

14 “As for you, son of man, prophesy. Clap your hands and let the sword come down twice, yes, three times,Hebrew its third‘>4 the sword for those to be slain. It is the sword for the great slaughter, which surrounds them, 15 that their hearts may melt, and many stumble.Hebrew many stumbling blocks‘>5 At all their gates I have given the glittering sword. Ah, it is made like lightning; it is taken upThe meaning of the Hebrew word rendered taken up is uncertain‘>6 for slaughter. 16 Cut sharply to the right; set yourself to the left, wherever your face is directed. 17 I also will clap my hands, and I will satisfy my fury; I the LORD have spoken.”

18 The word of the LORD came to me again: 19 “As for you, son of man, mark two ways for the sword of the king of Babylon to come. Both of them shall come from the same land. And make a signpost; make it at the head of the way to a city. 20 Mark a way for the sword to come to Rabbah of the Ammonites and to Judah, into Jerusalem the fortified. 21 For the king of Babylon stands at the parting of the way, at the head of the two ways, to use divination. He shakes the arrows; he consults the teraphim;Or household idols‘>7 he looks at the liver. 22 Into his right hand comes the divination for Jerusalem, to set battering rams, to open the mouth with murder, to lift up the voice with shouting, to set battering rams against the gates, to cast up mounds, to build siege towers. 23 But to them it will seem like a false divination. They have sworn solemn oaths, but he brings their guilt to remembrance, that they may be taken.

24 “Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because you have made your guilt to be remembered, in that your transgressions are uncovered, so that in all your deeds your sins appear—because you have come to remembrance, you shall be taken in hand. 25 And you, O profaneOr slain; also verse 29‘>8 wicked one, prince of Israel, whose day has come, the time of your final punishment, 26 thus says the Lord GOD: Remove the turban and take off the crown. Things shall not remain as they are. Exalt that which is low, and bring low that which is exalted. 27 A ruin, ruin, ruin I will make it. This also shall not be, until he comes, the one to whom judgment belongs, and I will give it to him.

28 “And you, son of man, prophesy, and say, Thus says the Lord GOD concerning the Ammonites and concerning their reproach; say, A sword, a sword is drawn for the slaughter. It is polished to consume and to flash like lightning—29 while they see for you false visions, while they divine lies for you—to place you on the necks of the profane wicked, whose day has come, the time of their final punishment. 30 Return it to its sheath. In the place where you were created, in the land of your origin, I will judge you. 31 And I will pour out my indignation upon you; I will blow upon you with the fire of my wrath, and I will deliver you into the hands of brutish men, skillful to destroy. 32 You shall be fuel for the fire. Your blood shall be in the midst of the land. You shall be no more remembered, for I the LORD have spoken.”

Israel’s Shedding of Blood

22 And the word of the LORD came to me, saying, 2 “And you, son of man, will you judge, will you judge the bloody city? Then declare to her all her abominations. 3 You shall say, Thus says the Lord GOD: A city that sheds blood in her midst, so that her time may come, and that makes idols to defile herself! 4 You have become guilty by the blood that you have shed, and defiled by the idols that you have made, and you have brought your days near, the appointed time ofSome Hebrew manuscripts, Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate, Targum; most Hebrew manuscripts until‘>9 your years has come. Therefore I have made you a reproach to the nations, and a mockery to all the countries. 5 Those who are near and those who are far from you will mock you; your name is defiled; you are full of tumult.

6 “Behold, the princes of Israel in you, every one according to his power, have been bent on shedding blood. 7 Father and mother are treated with contempt in you; the sojourner suffers extortion in your midst; the fatherless and the widow are wronged in you. 8 You have despised my holy things and profaned my Sabbaths. 9 There are men in you who slander to shed blood, and people in you who eat on the mountains; they commit lewdness in your midst. 10 In you men uncover their fathers’ nakedness; in you they violate women who are unclean in their menstrual impurity. 11 One commits abomination with his neighbor’s wife; another lewdly defiles his daughter-in-law; another in you violates his sister, his father’s daughter. 12 In you they take bribes to shed blood; you take interest and profitThat is, profit that comes from charging interest to the poor (compare Leviticus 25:36)‘>10 and make gain of your neighbors by extortion; but me you have forgotten, declares the Lord GOD.

13 “Behold, I strike my hand at the dishonest gain that you have made, and at the blood that has been in your midst. 14 Can your courage endure, or can your hands be strong, in the days that I shall deal with you? I the LORD have spoken, and I will do it. 15 I will scatter you among the nations and disperse you through the countries, and I will consume your uncleanness out of you. 16 And you shall be profaned by your own doing in the sight of the nations, and you shall know that I am the LORD.”

17 And the word of the LORD came to me: 18 “Son of man, the house of Israel has become dross to me; all of them are bronze and tin and iron and lead in the furnace; they are dross of silver. 19 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because you have all become dross, therefore, behold, I will gather you into the midst of Jerusalem. 20 As one gathers silver and bronze and iron and lead and tin into a furnace, to blow the fire on it in order to melt it, so I will gather you in my anger and in my wrath, and I will put you in and melt you. 21 I will gather you and blow on you with the fire of my wrath, and you shall be melted in the midst of it. 22 As silver is melted in a furnace, so you shall be melted in the midst of it, and you shall know that I am the LORD; I have poured out my wrath upon you.”

23 And the word of the LORD came to me: 24 “Son of man, say to her, You are a land that is not cleansed or rained upon in the day of indignation. 25 The conspiracy of her prophets in her midst is like a roaring lion tearing the prey; they have devoured human lives; they have taken treasure and precious things; they have made many widows in her midst. 26 Her priests have done violence to my law and have profaned my holy things. They have made no distinction between the holy and the common, neither have they taught the difference between the unclean and the clean, and they have disregarded my Sabbaths, so that I am profaned among them. 27 Her princes in her midst are like wolves tearing the prey, shedding blood, destroying lives to get dishonest gain. 28 And her prophets have smeared whitewash for them, seeing false visions and divining lies for them, saying, ‘Thus says the Lord GOD,’ when the LORD has not spoken. 29 The people of the land have practiced extortion and committed robbery. They have oppressed the poor and needy, and have extorted from the sojourner without justice. 30 And I sought for a man among them who should build up the wall and stand in the breach before me for the land, that I should not destroy it, but I found none. 31 Therefore I have poured out my indignation upon them. I have consumed them with the fire of my wrath. I have returned their way upon their heads, declares the Lord GOD.”

Footnotes

[1] 21:2 Some Hebrew manuscripts, compare Septuagint, Syriac against their sanctuary [2] 21:10 Probable reading; Hebrew The rod of my son despises everything of wood [3] 21:13 Or For it is a testing; and what if even the rod despises? It shall not be! [4] 21:14 Hebrew its third [5] 21:15 Hebrew many stumbling blocks [6] 21:15 The meaning of the Hebrew word rendered taken up is uncertain [7] 21:21 Or household idols [8] 21:25 Or slain; also verse 29 [9] 22:4 Some Hebrew manuscripts, Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate, Targum; most Hebrew manuscripts until [10] 22:12 That is, profit that comes from charging interest to the poor (compare Leviticus 25:36)

(ESV)

New Testament:

Revelation 19

Revelation 19 (Listen)

Rejoicing in Heaven

19 After this I heard what seemed to be the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven, crying out,

  “Hallelujah!   Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, 2     for his judgments are true and just;   for he has judged the great prostitute     who corrupted the earth with her immorality,   and has avenged on her the blood of his servants.”

3 Once more they cried out,

  “Hallelujah!   The smoke from her goes up forever and ever.”

4 And the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God who was seated on the throne, saying, “Amen. Hallelujah!” 5 And from the throne came a voice saying,

  “Praise our God,     all you his servants,   you who fear him,     small and great.”

The Marriage Supper of the Lamb

6 Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,

  “Hallelujah!   For the Lord our God     the Almighty reigns. 7   Let us rejoice and exult     and give him the glory,   for the marriage of the Lamb has come,     and his Bride has made herself ready; 8   it was granted her to clothe herself     with fine linen, bright and pure”—

for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

9 And the angel saidGreek he said‘>1 to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.” 10 Then I fell down at his feet to worship him, but he said to me, “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God.” For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.

The Rider on a White Horse

11 Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. 12 His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. 13 He is clothed in a robe dipped inSome manuscripts sprinkled with‘>2 blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. 14 And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. 15 From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will ruleGreek shepherd‘>3 them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. 16 On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords.

17 Then I saw an angel standing in the sun, and with a loud voice he called to all the birds that fly directly overhead, “Come, gather for the great supper of God, 18 to eat the flesh of kings, the flesh of captains, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and their riders, and the flesh of all men, both free and slave,For the contextual rendering of the Greek word doulos, see Preface‘>4 both small and great.” 19 And I saw the beast and the kings of the earth with their armies gathered to make war against him who was sitting on the horse and against his army. 20 And the beast was captured, and with it the false prophet who in its presenceOr on its behalf‘>5 had done the signs by which he deceived those who had received the mark of the beast and those who worshiped its image. These two were thrown alive into the lake of fire that burns with sulfur. 21 And the rest were slain by the sword that came from the mouth of him who was sitting on the horse, and all the birds were gorged with their flesh.

Footnotes

[1] 19:9 Greek he said [2] 19:13 Some manuscripts sprinkled with [3] 19:15 Greek shepherd [4] 19:18 For the contextual rendering of the Greek word doulos, see Preface [5] 19:20 Or on its behalf

(ESV)

Psalm:

Psalm 119:145–152

Psalm 119:145–152 (Listen)

Qoph

145   With my whole heart I cry; answer me, O LORD!     I will keep your statutes. 146   I call to you; save me,     that I may observe your testimonies. 147   I rise before dawn and cry for help;     I hope in your words. 148   My eyes are awake before the watches of the night,     that I may meditate on your promise. 149   Hear my voice according to your steadfast love;     O LORD, according to your justice give me life. 150   They draw near who persecute me with evil purpose;     they are far from your law. 151   But you are near, O LORD,     and all your commandments are true. 152   Long have I known from your testimonies     that you have founded them forever.

(ESV)

Proverb:

Proverbs 28:15–16

Proverbs 28:15–16 (Listen)

15   Like a roaring lion or a charging bear     is a wicked ruler over a poor people. 16   A ruler who lacks understanding is a cruel oppressor,     but he who hates unjust gain will prolong his days.

(ESV)

[dragonnan]

Whump Snippets

A selection of whumpy moments from several of my stories with links if you’d like to read more! (warnings will be included)

Psych:

Better Off Decapitated No warnings

“It’s just a headache.”

“Sure Shawn. It could also be Swine flu. I’m taking you to your dad���s. And don’t breathe on me either.”

A challenge was it? Intending to do just that, Shawn turned his head, and abruptly hacked, causing Gus to lurch sideways in a frantic and fruitless attempt to dodge the spray. “Gah! Dude, mouth!” The wild action threw the little car into the next lane, thankfully free of traffic, before Gus managed to wrench it back- proceeding to lock his eyes on the highway while somehow bouncing a glare from the rearview mirror directly into Shawn’s forehead. “You could have killed us you idiot!”

Shawn rolled his eyes while rubbing at the spot where he swore he could feel a small burn mark forming from his friend’s laser sights. That or his headache was merely responding to the heightened levels of bitchy that was clouding the space around him like boiled egg flatulence.

Closing his eyes was better than blinking cow-like at Mr. Faces of Death. “Man this stinks.” he moaned while trying to rest the side of his skull against the passenger window. Several hard raps as the tires found every rut in the road and he was back to cradling his cranium in his cupped hands.

“I better not get sick Shawn. You know I can’t afford to take any more days off this month; Ogletree's been threatening furlough if I don't run my route according to his personal schedule.”

“What, like in between sending Haversham secret messages with his carrier pigeons?” Shawn chuckled but then gasped, immediately clutching his skull. Gus pressed his lips together while glancing at his friend once more.

“It’s just a migraine.” Shawn whined, trying and immediately discarding head massage as a technique for easing pain.

A disbelieving snort with the decibel level of a seven forty-seven drilled through his left cornea and started a minor brain bleed.

“Two minutes ago it was just a headache.”

Choosing to ignore the snidery of the comment, Shawn just folded down towards his lap, his fingers winding around to the back of his head. If he squeezed hard enough he could crack through the thick outer shell and release some of the pressure. Gus might be irritated by blood and brain matter on his dash, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made in the name of friendship.

“You okay?”

Did his vision just go blurry there for a second? That couldn’t be good. Maybe he needed to squeeze harder. “As you confirmed in your booming announcer voice, two minutes ago I told you it was just a headache.”

“And now?”

“Still a headache.”

The avenue of palm trees lining the road made intermittent stripes across the vehicle- brief shadows of fleeting coolness that only increased the drum of heat and light in the spaces between. The blast of air from the vents simply wasn’t enough to comfort his throbbing temples and he was ready for extreme measures involving tire irons and chloroform by the time Gus turned down the last street at the end of the block. Still hadn’t fixed that pothole he noted as the car jounced across the crater at the top of the driveway. Normally something Gus would drive through a lawn to avoid, the Grand Canyon of road hazards could not be bypassed except by vehicles equipped with wings. They both groaned as the Echo clawed back to smoother tar- though his friend’s distress had more to do with insurance premiums than his companion’s agony.

“Looks like your dad is gone…”

“Good, now you have no reason to leave me here. Just take me back to my apartment.”

“You’re the one that was crying about a burst water pipe and contacting FEMA.”

Shawn curled his fingers into the hair on the back of his head and slowly began to pull. “Yeah well… I think my couch… floats…”

Sherlock:

The Tiger and the Shark  Warnings for rape/non-con and violence

“Breathing is good – no sounds of blockage.” John tapped across Sherlock's chest, checked pulse and pupil response. No sign of concussion, either. That, too, was good. He clung to the very, very little that was good about any of this. Palpation of his belly gave no indication of internal bleeding but he'd want a scan, just the same.

Shoulder was a mess – skin dark with bruising and stretched taut over the dislocated joint. While John wanted to ease the associated pain, there was no telling if Sherlock had also sustained a fracture so he felt it best to immobilize as best as he could and move on to more pressing injuries.

The agents Mycroft had employed were useless in medical treatment – no surprise. Singularly focused on Sherlock's rescue, they now sat about the helicopter like so much luggage. Sherlock's reactions had been minimal – a few slow blinks before his pupils had rolled back behind his lids. Once back to a facility with proper equipment, they'd need to test his blood to determine if he'd been given anything. Of course he'd been given something. Probably a lot of something.

The medical kit available to him was well stocked but a surgery bay this wasn't. And by well stocked, John could patch up a bee sting, postpone anaphylactic shock, and stitch a few minor lacerations. Still, he dug free one of the ice packs and gave it a shake – mixing the chemicals that started to freeze the pouch in his hand. Laying a thin cloth over the worst of the bruising on Sherlock's chest, he snapped fingers towards one of the agents propping up the sides of the helicopter. A hesitation, just a moment, before the young man angled across the sloping floor to kneel beside John.

“What's your name?”

“Uh, Dowd. Bastian Dowd.”

“Bastian. Hold this, here.” John grasped the man's hand and pushed it firm against the ice pack – keeping the frozen product against the darkening contusion.

Sherlock's eyes rolled open again – a bit less foggy then before.

“Hey – hey, you with us?” John pressed a folded square of gauze against the deep gash on the right side of Sherlock's abdomen. He noted the five circular bruises, already deep purple, just above Sherlock's hip – knowing there would be a matching set on the other side. His face twisted and he sucked his lips between his teeth – throat gulping as he worked though his reserves of composure until he could prop himself up enough to get through this.

“C...co...”

“You're cold?” John pointed to another agent – not bothering with a name this time. “You, find me a blanket!”

He turned back to Sherlock – whose lips had turned down in what John, could swear, was an aggravated frown.

“Co... coat...”

John blinked. “You... want your coat?” Of all the... He shook his head – accepting the blanket handed to him and draping it over Sherlock's body; forcing Dowd to sit back out of the way. “I didn't see your coat. Sorry, mate, I was a little distracted by my half-dead friend at the time.”

Now it definitely was a frown. “C-cut... it.”

Less attention on the stuttered words, John only nodded as he found a thermometer and pressed it into Sherlock's ear. Not as accurate as the sort taken under the tongue but, then, he'd never had any luck with getting Sherlock to keep one in his mouth long enough for a reading anyhow.

“He... cut it...” Still struggling with speech. John nodded again; removing the device after a soft beep and frowning at the readout. 35c. Not so good. John, without looking, gestured for another blanket. Without a thorough exam he couldn't be certain what had triggered the drop in body temp. The room had been chilly but not freezing and, given the approximate drive time to reach Appledore, Sherlock wouldn't have been there longer than an hour, at most. Shock was the most likely culprit so, until they could reach hospital, the best that could be done would to be to keep Sherlock warm.

A hard wind struck their transportation – rocking the helicopter. Sherlock lashed out a hand – clamping iron fingers around John's sleeve. He didn't make a sound but his breath sucked in rough gasps – eyes flinching tight.

“It's alright – it's alright...” Nothing much left but to monitor until they arrived, John slipped into a stereotype of comfort – trying to shove his thoughts far away from what he'd seen – only to find them snapping back into that room...

Even in this state, however, Sherlock was less than accepting of the pat words that rolled too easily from his lips.

“...sss'not al...right...”

Chastised, John covered Sherlock's fingers with his own – feeling their tremor. “No.” He pushed out a breath filled with all of the things burning in his chest... but had nothing more to add but repetition – as his friend never accepted lies; not even ones meant as comfort. “It's not,” his mind supplying the rest of the words – unspoken, 'but it is what it is...'

MCU:

Not the Hero Type  No warnings

Half his age and twice his height, Stuart Little and Tiny Tim were pawing the trinkets they'd collected from his person after that yellow flag moment minutes ago. They'd gone all out on their little urban Robin Hood cliché too. Their mothers and/or parole officers would be so proud. In addition to the tire iron they'd also managed a suitably dark and litter infested alley. All that was missing were the ra... oh, never-mind. One of the cat sized squeakers was just crawling from the dumpster about six feet downstream.

“Where's the cash?”

Tony lolled his leaking skull left-wise; bringing himself up to speed that one of the fine young gentlemen had wandered back to his side of the alley sometime in the last few... hours? Yeah, that was a concussion.

“That's the-green stuff, right?” Slurring. Kinda took the edge off his response but hopefully the all teeth grin helped it along.

Yup, sure did. Helped it right into a fist planted somewhere to the right of his appendix.

“Umph! Mmm... stellar delivery.” He coughed, noting the flavor of freshly diced liver on his palette. “No, really,” he wheezed, pushing slightly more vertical against his wall. “Watch a lot of Lamont Peterson?” He cocked his head. “Nah, you strike me as more of a Butterbean fan...”

Strike – got it in one as the second wallop emptied lungs and sarcasm but had the satisfaction of a yelp and gouged knuckles as his assailant stumbled backward, staring. Not just a glorified pacemaker and dream chaser, it also slices and dices. Though smoothed and polished for that nonabrasive comfort and style, the casing of his arc reactor was still metal. Very hard and very undentable by human knuckles no matter how large they were. Maybe still lacking in verbal comebacks, Tony still managed a wincing wink through his scrambled gasps.

The other guy stashed the Patek Philippe, no doubt dazzled with the notion of raking in a couple hundred for that bit of wrist gadgetry at the closest pawn shop in spite of the original sticker price. Tony didn't even know the original sticker price. Could care less about the sticker price and would be content with a hunk of plastic dressed up with Mickey Mouse so long as it alluded to the time. It didn't necessarily have to keep the right time either. An approximation... really. At least within a twelve hour window.

“That some kinda vest?” Big bad and angry grappled with complete sentences around the mouthful of scraped flesh. His buddy, still going through their recent windfall, was back to picking through the wallet that had yet to disgorge anything more than plastic.

He watched both young men while evaluating his own limits. Scruffy, oversized clothes in spite of their height. Easy enough to overpower them both. Even with him injured it wouldn't honestly be a fair fight. He'd gotten his breath back, now. Still dizzy and blinking hard but he could work with that. Wouldn't pass up a glass of Scotch. He'd even be happy with a stick of Juicy Fruit.

Or a... rock.

Good enough. His fingers crawled towards the... huh... not rock. Pitted, carbon black, the outer curved edge held a slight sheen. A tooth. Not even a whole tooth – just the sheared off tip from one of those... flying eel... things. The kid currently engaged with his wallet suddenly called for his buddy, giving Tony the chance to tuck the tooth into his palm as Clockwork Orange turned away.

Advantage him in those seconds, both with their backs turned and enough adrenaline to overcome the wobble, he pulled to his feet with barely a scrape of his heels, tooth dropping into his palm. Taking in a single breath to gather himself, he...

Legs. Funny time they chose not to work. Not funny hilarious but more like funny 'Oh Shit!'

“...oh fuck, dude, check out the name on the card! Dude, we just beat up Iro-KEVIN, LOOK OUT!”

Doctor Strange:

The High Cost of Dying No warnings

He felt a ripple travel from shoulders to waist – the cloth encasing his torso constricting – shivering mild panic through his chest and he fought not to tear the not-a-cardigan from his body – god, he couldn't breathe! Trying to push himself up, he trembled at the stiff ache throbbing through his midsection. His brain analyzed the symptoms even as he struggled to understand why... he was going into shock. His arms folded beneath him; dropping him to his side and he felt the first real bloom of heat in his back. He couldn't reach it with his hands but he could feel another sensation – wet – and understood, suddenly, what had happened... just not

“How... h-ho-how... what...?”

A shaking, terrified voice responded. “I'm sorry – God I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn-I didn-I didn't m-mean – please, oh my God, don't die – please don't die – oh my God!”

The clerk – babbling – sneakers squeaking as he, apparently, made several running steps back and forth. And then a sob – a metallic clank as something heavy dropped on the counter.

“Please – you have to come quick! He's bleeding – I think he... he's been shot and I think he's dying!”

Stephen tuned out the 911 call in the background. The kid wasn't wrong. Though he wasn't, yet, feeling the pain that he knew would hit once the adrenaline faded, he knew, roughly, where he'd been shot. Large intestine and possibly the right kidney were compromised – no exit wound so the bullet likely struck bone – angle suggesting slight upward path and... Stephen gasped – tasting blood... probable lung involvement.

Weakness was rapidly stripping away his ability to move – his fingers splayed – shaking. His vision was started to go unfocused – a darkening grey at the edges. Color had already begun to leech from his sight.

Everything stopped in his next breath – grey brightening to silver and everything tunneled to a single pinprick...

He burst free; his body left behind with the shade of his astral form lifting above – evaluating the damage from an outsider's perspective. Literally. Moving closer, he slipped his fingers past the layers of cloth and skin. A warm glow lit the interior – highlighting veins and bone and organs...

A clatter and startled shout reminded him of the clerk – the young man standing just behind him and currently staring at the light show with his jaw slack. In another moment, he swallowed – rubbing his head and muttering.

“Oh my God... that isn't normal...”

Interesting... Terrified but he hadn't run away, yet. Stephen pushed his head and shoulders into the physical world. “It also isn't normal to stand around gaping while a man bleeds out on the floor – no thanks to you.”

“Holy shit! Ohhhh holy shit!!” Backpedaling into an end cap of Hostess snack cakes, the young man pointed a shaking hand at the ghost apparently haunting the cracker aisle.

“Holy shit, you're dead – you're dead – are you dead?? Oh, God, don't kill me!”

“Okay, calm down, I'm not going to kill you... Wayne.”

Wayne wrapped his arms around himself, half bending at the waist – long dreadlocks swinging into his eyes. “How- how- how...?”

Forgoing the cliché of pointing out the prominent name tag, Stephen frowned. “Because I'm a powerful sorcerer and I can read your mind.” At Wayne's already ashy face losing yet more color, Stephen rolled his eyes. “I read your name tag. Now, do you mind?” He gestured to the widening blood pool.